Snowbird's Battalion
by sentinel28
Summary: The Battle of Fort Pilum is over, and now Sheila has to deal with the consequences.  And they aren't easy.
1. A New Offensive

_**SNOWBIRD'S BATTALION**_

**Part IV of the Snowbird Saga**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Here I deviate a little from Battletech canon. According to the _Wolf Clan Sourcebook,_ Clan Wolf took Planting from the 41st Avalon Hussars in July 3050. However, I have changed this to Clan Jade Falcon. Also, in _Lethal Heritage_ Victor Steiner-Davion states that the Twycross operation was meant as the first of many counterattacks against the Clans. This got me to thinking: what happened to those other planned attacks, and why did the Inner Sphere sit idly by and wait for the Clans to come back? This tries to answer both questions…plus move Sheila and Company a little further up the chain of command._

_Movie buffs might recognize an occasional line in here. What can I say? _Gettysburg _is one of my favorite movies._

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE_: It is November 3050. After the triple blows of the Inner Sphere victories on Wolcott and Twycross, and the death of the ilKhan to Tyra Miraborg's suicide run at Radstadt, the Clan invasion has halted. Always one to take advantage of an injured foe, Prince Hanse Davion has ordered the AFFC to go on the offensive wherever possible. The first target is Planting, the lead regiment, the battered but still proud Sentinels._

_Sheila Arla-Vlata, now a part of her father Calla's headquarters staff and somewhat redeemed from her court-martial after Blackjack, is part of this offensive. She and Maximillian Canis-Vlata have secretly been engaged, but neither have found an appropriate time to tell their parents. She has no idea what awaits her on Planting…_

_"Time is everything. Five minutes makes the difference between victory and defeat."_

_--Admiral Horatio Nelson_

_Duranter River Hills_

_Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone_

_13 November 3050_

"Tigerstripe One from Sentinel One," Commander Calla Bighorn-Vlata radioed impatiently, for the second time. "What the hell is the holdup down there?"

"Sentinel One, Tigerstripe One," Major Marion Rhialla shot back. "I am going as fast as I can. It's not my fault I can get out and run faster than this 'Mech. With all due respect, clear the channel or come down here and relieve me."

Calla let the line click off, smiling sardonically. Of all the company commanders in the Sentinels, Marion Rhialla was probably one of the few that could get away with snapping back at her commander in such a fashion. He sighed and sat back in his _Battlemaster_'s command seat, knowing Rhialla had been right to call him on it. He had given her the orders, and she was executing them as best she could. Marion Rhialla—known as Tigerstripe for the way she dyed her hair various colors—was not known for half measures, even if her command lance was abysmally slow. And, Calla told himself, he was not in that much of a hurry. The Jade Falcons already knew where the Sentinels were going.

It was the third day of the Planting campaign, and it was a beautiful autumn day. Planting was aptly named, for it was a fertile planet with generally temperate and Terralike seasons; locals claimed that one could plant two-by-fours in the ground and they would grow. It had also been lucky enough to escape most of the ravages of the Succession Wars, aside from the occasional Kurita or pirate raid. That had changed three months ago, when Clan Jade Falcon had arrived and forced the 41st Avalon Hussars offplanet, though not before the Falcons had taken heavy casualties doing it. The Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth had identified Planting as an excellent place for a counterattack, and Calla Bighorn-Vlata had been included in the planning for it. It had been agreed that one of the things that had gone right on Twycross was the use of overwhelming force, so significant forces had been assigned to the mission; besides the Sentinels, there was the 20th Arcturan Guards, the 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse, and the 2nd Kell Hounds Regiment. Calla, to his surprise, had been assigned the task of leading the entire operation, because of his experience; not only that, but the other commanders of the regiments assigned agreed. Since this included such famous 'Mech commanders as Ariana Winston of the Eridani and Morgan Kell of the Kell Hounds, Calla had been very honored. Of course, he reasoned, it could be that much easier to hang a nobody if the operation failed.

So far, it had gone well. Using typical Sentinel tactics, Calla had smuggled several members of the Sentinels' elite Light Infantry battalion onto the planet several weeks before the operation. At the appropriate time, the special force unit had destroyed the Gray Bay surveillance station, blinding the Jade Falcons in Planting's southern hemisphere. To further confuse the issue, the Sentinels had landed their pathfinders offshore; these had come ashore, easily driven off the small Clan garrison of the city of Gray Bay, and secured the dropzones. The Sentinels had made the landing, gotten organized, and moved northward, their objective to secure the Dunbarton subcontinent. Once done, it would allow the AFFC units a secure base to move on to the main continent. The 50th Heavy Cavalry and the 2nd Kell Hounds remained in orbit until the Sentinels took their objective. In the meantime, the 20th Arcturan had landed on the main continent as a diversion, on the narrow Tel Akbir Peninsula.

Calla took out his binoculars and scanned the ground below him. His 'Mech sat on the forward slope of the Gray Hills, which flowed down to the Duranter Valley and the river of the same name. On the other side of the river, the hills were not as high as the Gray Hills, and gently rolled north over the horizon, where there was a small town called Fairfields. Calla knew that a short distance beyond that horizon was Blackett Strait, which separated Dunbarton from the rest of Planting. To the west, the Duranter River meandered to the sea; to the east, it disappeared into the high purple mountains of the Dunbarton Alps. In the center, in direct line to Calla's position, was the village of Horatius, but more importantly, a wide and thick bridge, stressed to take the passage of the heaviest BattleMechs. It was the best crossing site on the river's entire length. It was also the best place to defend against such a crossing, and from the dust cloud on the far bank, Calla knew his opposite number in the Clans had deduced the same thing. If the Sentinels won here, there was no point in defending the subcontinent any further, for there were no real natural obstacles between Horatius and the coast. If the Sentinels lost, that would gain the Jade Falcons more time to reinforce their units and make Calla's second attempts nigh impossible.

A sudden explosion brought Calla back to the present. He zoomed in with his 'Mech's external sensors, but could only see dust and haze. Something was moving. His radio crackled to life. "Tigerstripe One from Gaul One. Enemy contact." There was a pause, and Calla waited impatiently. Gaul One was Leonard Shingo, Rhialla's scout lance commander. "Approximate enemy strength one trinary, possibly lights, over." Calla's heart leapt. _Intel said that there were only two Clusters onplanet, a light and an assault unit. If we're engaging the light unit, that means the assault Cluster is up on the Tel Akbir fighting the 20th Arcturan. We can deal with light 'Mechs—they're not very well armored. This is going to work!_

"Gaul One, Tigerstripe," Rhialla was saying. "Fall back through the village. I'm coming up to support. Give me some weight."

"Tigerstripe, enemy 'Mechs look like mediums and lights, though I've got something that looks like a _Rifleman_—" There was a sudden buzz of static, and Calla growled a curse at the radio, hating the fact that he was not down there, where he could do something. "Sorry, Tigerstripe. It's not a _Rifleman_; dork just shot at me with a fracking Gauss Rifle."

"I see the sonofabitch," Rhialla replied tightly. "Get out of there, Gaul; let's see how he likes one back at him."

Calla looked north of the bridge. There were a lot of 'Mechs moving there, and a trinary of Clan 'Mechs, even second-line ones, might be too much for Rhialla to handle. Calla switched on his own radio. "Guns, this is Command. Fire mission. Start your shots a hundred meters north of the bridge and work your way north. Don't worry; there's nothing friendly north of the bridge. Fire when ready."

"Roger, Command." Calla waited for a few moments, as the Sentinels' artillery battery, behind his hill, fed the data into their fire computers. They would have to shoot more or less blind, since there was no spotter, but all Calla wanted was to throw off the Falcons' attack. Rhialla would engage too closely to call in any sort of support there. "Shot out," reported the artillerist, and Calla flinched slightly at the thunderous booms behind him. The shells whistled like a maglev train as they flew towards their distant targets. Calla watched as they impacted in the Clan formation, raising a huge gout of dirt and smoke. A few of the shells burst above ground, and Calla smiled grimly. The airbursts would be lethal to any infantry supporting the 'Mechs, whether they were in battlesuits or not.

Calla then returned his attention to the radio, but now there were only fragments of talk, overlaid with a thick buzzing. _Clans are jamming us. Rhialla can fight on her own, but I can't see what's happening._ He put that aside for a moment. "Thorn One, Command One. How do you read?"

Alexander van Thorn's voice came through Calla's earphones loud and clear. "Five-square, Command. I'm not getting through to Tigerstripe. I think we're being jammed over there. I'm committing my reserve, over."

Calla thought about that one. Rhialla's company, except for her mammoth Command Lance, was a light unit, designed for skirmishing. Calla had placed Gina Carabinera's Beta/3 company behind Rhialla, since it was a little heavier and specialized in urban fighting. "Good idea, Thorn. I'll send someone down for a look-see and get back to you. I'd rather you not spare anyone from your side of the line just yet, over." Calla did not need the map display on his instrument panel to remember Ceta Battalion's setup. Rhialla had her 4th Company at the bridge, and now Carabinera was coming up to support. To Rhialla's right, in the foothills, was Elfa Brownoak's light 2nd Company, watching the flank, though Calla did not expect an assault there. On the left flank was van Thorn's heavy 1st Company and Shiloh Stott's light 3rd Company, drawn up in a small forest called Pascia Grove. The Duranter could be forded there, so if there was a threat to the flank, Calla suspected it would appear at the grove. "Is your sector quiet, Thorn One?"

"All quiet here, Command. I got a sitrep from Gloster One; she's says there's some Toads prowling around, but that's it, over." Gloster One was Brownoak.

"Roger. Hang loose and keep an eye on that river. Out." Calla switched frequencies and looked out to his right side. "Command Two, this is One. I need you to go down to Tigerstripe's position and make sure she's holding. Stay out of trouble and be careful. Take a look around and get back here ASAP. Understood?"

"Roger that. On my way." The gray 'Mech moved out from behind the hill and accelerated. Calla was not sure who he hated more: the Clans for starting the war, or himself for sending his daughter into the cauldron.

* * *

Sheila Arla-Vlata stepped down on the foot pedals and ran the _Shruiken_ up to full speed. She was over the hill quickly and moving down the highway towards Horatius. She had been listening to the battle over the radio, and knew why she was being sent. Normally, Calla would have sent Archibald Harrier, who could get in and out of trouble quickly, because he piloted a _Wasp LAM_. But Harrier's LAM was down for maintenance, its balky actuators having given out again, and what was a routine job on a normal 'Mech was an all-day evolution for a LAM. So she was doing what amounted to courier duty.

Sheila didn't mind. Though she was by no means eager to get killed, at least she was doing something besides sitting in her 'Mech watching the radio. Despite her showing on Twycross, which had gotten her the personal thanks of Victor Steiner-Davion, she was still stuck without a command. It wrankled her to no end, because she knew she could fight a lance. Instead, she was being wasted as an aide-de-camp to her father, when he really didn't need one. She was not sure if she actually enjoyed fighting, but she knew she hated sitting on the sidelines. The only way she would get a command now was if someone got killed, and she didn't want that.

_Dammit,_ she thought, _Dad's holding me back. He knows I can do the job, but he doesn't want me to get hurt. Fine, I can understand that, but I'm a MechWarrior! It's what I do! If he didn't want me to get into combat, why the heck did he allow me to go to the Nagelring? For that matter, why did he encourage me to _become_ a MechWarrior? _For the hundredth time in the last month, Sheila considered Victor's offer. He had told her in the euphoria following Twycross that, if she ever needed a place, he would make room for her in the 10th Lyran Guards. It would mean "going regular," quitting the Sentinels and taking an oath to House Steiner-Davion, instead of just signing a contract. It was a big step to take, and Sheila knew what held her back. All she had to do was look at the chain hanging down over her coolant vest. Attached was a tiny ring with a diamond atop it. It had been all Max could afford on his salary, though the Twycross jeweler had given him a good deal on it. Now that they were engaged—secretly—she could not bear to go anywhere without him. Max seemed happy with the Sentinels; like Sheila, it was all he had ever really known. She was not sure he would follow her if she went to the 10th Lyran, and so she stayed where she was. Max was in his mother's lance, which he did not like that much, but it was a combat assignment.

Sheila shook herself out of her reverie. _I may be just the gofer, but the Clans will shoot at me all the same._ She was coming up to the rear of Carabinera's company, which was moving at a slow trot. It was a mixed company of mediums and lights; in the lead was Carabinera's command lance, made up of entirely _Centurions_. It was the best lance in the regiment, since Carabinera only accepted the best. Sheila raised her 'Mech's weapons arm in salute as she passed Carabinera, but the faster _Centurion_ suddenly swerved in front of her, forcing Sheila to slow down.

"Command Two, Centurion One. Where are you going?" Carabinera fairly snarled at Sheila, and Sheila was sure she knew why. Gina Carabinera had a very narrow-minded view of honor, and Sheila, having been court-martialed, had violated Sentinel honor.

"Centurion, Command One has sent me up to check on Tigerstripe. We're being jammed, and he wants a visual sitrep."

The _Centurion_ stepped out of the way. "On your way, then, Two. I thought you were trying to be a hero again."

_Bitch_, Sheila thought as she stepped past the older woman's 'Mech. _If I live to be forty and I'm that crotchety, I hope someone shoots me._ It was common knowledge that Carabinera believed anyone who wasn't part of her beloved company was a moron, with the possible exception of her battalion and regimental commanders. _Everybody's got the rag on today._

Sheila made it through Horatius fairly quickly. Except for Sentinel infantry holing up in the larger buildings and a few curious locals, the town was deserted. As she approached the far end, she saw 'Mechs ahead, all giving off a comfortable blue sign on her monitors, indicating they were friendly. Here the buildings of the town had taken a beating; most had holes in them, and a few had collapsed entirely. Smoke rose from the ruins, and Sheila saw fires burning.

The bridge was wide and flat, a gentle curve of a four-lane highway and a parallel maglev line, its supports as thick as an assault 'Mech and solid concrete. The road was pitted and scarred from hits, and Sheila could see at least three 'Mechs down. One was a _Locust_ with most of its chassis missing, while the other two were Clan Omnis. Two other 'Mechs with Sentinel colors were limping towards the rear. The other Sentinel 'Mechs were drawn up in a rough line behind what had been wide riverfront warehouses and hotels. The Clans were evidently pulling back, since she saw no Clan 'Mechs, and the Sentinels, while staying under cover, seemed relaxed. "Tigerstripe One, Command Two," she radioed. "Where are you?"

"Just ahead, to your left," Rhialla radioed back. To Sheila's relief, the jamming seemed to have faded completely.

Finding Rhialla's 'Mech was not particularly difficult. Her command lance nearly outweighed the rest of her company by themselves. She had one of the brand-new _Perenniums_, monster assault 'Mechs that had just marched off of the production line; four of them had been given to the Sentinels as a financial pat on the back from the Federated Commonwealth for their service against the Clans. Sheila shuddered at the _Perennium_'s appearance: the cockpit jutted out from two thick chest plastrons, giving the 'Mech a birdlike, hunched-over appearance. Two PPC barrels jutted out over the shoulders, while the arms consisted of Gauss Rifles. The combination would be lethal in the hands of a good pilot, and Marion Rhialla was one of the best, having cut her teeth in 'Mechs before the Fourth Succession War. The building Rhialla was behind was largely intact, and Sheila felt much safer in the _Perennium_'s shadow. "Morning, Tigerstripe."

"Morning, Command Two. What can I do for you?" Rhialla's voice was jaunty and cheerful, which it always was in a fight. Rhialla was a confirmed adrenalin junkie.

"We were jammed back at the CP. Just need a sitrep."

"Sitrep? We're doing fine. I've got a 'Mech down, but the pilot's okay, and two crippled, but we got four of the bastards, including that jammer."

"Four?" Sheila asked.

"The other two are in the river." Sheila could hear the grin in Rhialla's voice. "They're arrogant bastards, these Jade Falcons. Came right at us; didn't try to swerve or anything. They were calling us out, challenging us. I told them to eff off and we opened fire. Put a couple of 'em down and they pulled back."

"Sounds like a probe to me," Sheila said, then slapped the side of her helmet, realizing she had just corrected a veteran who had more years in her 'Mech than Sheila had in life.

Rhialla did not seem to take offense. "Yeah, I know, Two. They'll be back, but we'll be waiting. Tell the Old Man that we got some identification on these bastards. They're the 2nd Falcon Jaegers; that's what I got in front of me."

"Okay, I'll pass it on. Do you need anything?"

"Not with Carabinera coming up. The arty was a nice touch, though. Kept the little Toad bastards off of us, which is good. I hate those damn things."

Sheila found herself grinning. Rhialla's enthusiasm was infectious. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be heading back now."

"You do that. Tell Carabinera on your way back that she's an old, crosseyed, dumb bitchtard that can't hit the broadside of an _Atlas_' ass with a bass fiddle. Word for word, Two, that's an order."

"Yes, ma'am." Sheila turned her _Shruiken_ around and began heading back into town. She passed Carabinera again, paused, and passed on Rhialla's message, cheeks burning the whole time. To her surprise, Carabinera only laughed. "Tigerstripe's older than me!" she exclaimed. "And she's got to hide behind an assault 'Mech. Won't pilot a real machine like a real MechWarrior—she's got to drive that Liao reject that looks like someone kicked it in the bunghole!" Her company heard, and laughed on the open channel. Sheila smiled as she headed off again, wondering what people could find so funny in the middle of a battle.

She reached her father's position a few minutes later, stealing a glance at her rear monitor. There were no explosions or smoke along the river yet, so she figured neither side had reopened the battle yet. "Command One, Two reporting in with sitrep."

"Go, Two," Calla ordered.

Sheila recounted Rhialla's report. Calla laughed. "Good. We'll see what they throw at us next, chew that up, then take the bridge. Did you see any Clanners yourself?"

"Not live ones. The other side of the river had too much smoke and too many ruins to see much."

"Very well—whoa, here we go again."

Sheila turned her 'Mech around. She could see the Falcon 'Mechs coming across the bridge now, some riding silvery spears of jumpjets. From her position, it looked like a horde of insects attacking across a stream. Then laser beams began to crisscross each other, finding targets, punctuated by the bright blue of a PPC bolt, smoke from missiles, and the almost invisible pencil line of an autocannon or Gauss round. The hits came as distant thunderclaps, until drowned out by the Sentinels' artillery. Sheila saw missiles arcing up from the opposite bank of the river, and knew the Clans were calling in artillery strikes as well. She scanned the sky, but it was clear, patches of blue covered by wispy cirrus. If there was an air battle going on, the aerojocks were being quiet about it. She returned her attention to the battle. The green Falcon 'Mechs were doggedly advancing and falling back to firing positions, trying to gain a foothold on the south bank, but Sheila could tell they were having a tough time of it.

"Hah!" Calla crowed. "Best fucking ground for kilometers, and the stupid ass is hitting me with one trinary! Lovely!"

Sheila didn't reply. The Falcons had enough, and were falling back again. She could hear Rhialla and Carabinera checking for casualties, but they were light, and there was cheering in the Sentinel ranks. "We're winning," Sheila whispered to herself.


	2. Pascia Grove

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Part 2. This time we get a little insight into the "other side of the hill"–the Clans. I always liked how Stackpole used to switch perspectives between the two sides. It made the reader feel a bit omnipotent and gave you insight into both sides. After all, the Clans aren't exactly a faceless enemy..._

_As always, I appreciate the reviews! SulliMike, I do know about the meeting on Outreach, but that actually doesn't start until January 3051; the "current" date in the story is November 3050. Don't worry, that meeting will get addressed in the next story arc after this one. RougeBaron, I agree with your assessment, but when I originally came up with this story–when I was gaming it out–was back when only _Lethal Heritage_ was available, and we Battletech fans had to pretty much make up the story as it went along. When _Blood Legacy_ came out, my friends and I had already completed fighting a campaign on Planting, so I had to come up with a good reason for it when I finally put fingers to keypad (about 15 years later–wow, time flies!) Bienviedo, my real name is on my profile (I think), but I try not to throw it around. The Internet isn't the most secure place in the world, after all, and I like to stay somewhat anonymous. Given the rash of very nasty attacks I've had on my Evangelion stories, which forced me to disable anonymous reviews, you can understand my reasoning._

_Fairfields_

_Planting, Jade Falcon Occupation Zone_

_13 November 3050_

SaKhan Cavell Malthus sighed, and ran his hands through his close-cropped hair as he looked at the holographic map display. Bisecting it was the blue of the Duranter River, with gray shapes marking the buildings of Horatius and the bridge. On one end were his units, marked in green; on the opposite bank were the known Sentinel units, marked in red. "Idiot," he said softly, then turned to a tech. "Get me Star Colonel Tarren Roshak."

"Yes, ovkhan," the tech replied. On a separate hologrid, the image of Star Colonel Tarren Roshak wavered and appeared. He was dressed in standard Jade Falcon MechWarrior combat gear, but was not in his 'Mech. "My Khan," Tarren said, bowing slightly.

"Star Colonel, may I ask what in the name of Kerensky you are doing?" Malthus said in a tired voice.

"Sir?"

"Your own scouts reported that there were two companies of Sentinel 'Mechs on the south bank instead of one, _quiaff_?"

"Aff, my Khan."

"Why did you attack with only one Trinary? You bid three."

"I felt I could take the position with one, ovkhan."

"Star Colonel, your job is to pin the Sentinels in place. I expect you to use all your forces doing so. You have two Elemental trinaries holding your flanks, and I understand you want to hold one Trinary in reserve. Fine. That leaves you with one Trinary sitting around playing six-sided stones, _quiaff_? Use it in your next attack. And lead it next time, Star Colonel, with an adequate artillery barrage."

"Ovkhan, I have done what you—"

Malthus cut him off. "All you have done, Tarren, is served as target practice for assault 'Mechs. These are not untried fledglings or militia; this is an experienced Inner Sphere unit that has fought us before! Now use your brain or I will find someone who can use theirs!" Malthus severed the connection, knowing he was on the verge of losing his temper.

He felt eyes on him, and looked around. The anger evaporated quickly, but the sight of Senefa usually did that. By any world's standards, she was quite beautiful, a war goddess in her field uniform. She was taller than Malthus, her black hair combed down one shoulder, partially obscuring her rank insignia, which was Star Colonel. Her lithe body was typical of Clan female warriors, who had no opportunity to gain weight. Malthus was particularly proud of Senefa, for she came from a sibko with his genes; the two would have been mistaken for father and daughter in the Inner Sphere. So far, her record in the invasion had been exemplary, and the saKhan had promoted her himself when her commander had been killed on Antares. She had proven herself worthy of the rank on Blackjack and other planets, and Malthus had nominated her for a Bloodname during the Grand Kulturai on Strana Mechty. "Good morning, Senefa."

"Good morning, my Khan. How goes the attack?"

The saKhan motioned her out of the command tent and into the sunlight. Malthus looked up at the sky, and wished he was flying today; it was a perfect day for it, and despite his rank, he was a fighter pilot at heart. "Senefa, you have worked with the 2nd Jaegers before. If I need someone to replace Tarren Roshak, who is the next best person in that Cluster?"

"Marthe Pryde," Senefa answered without hesitation. "She is being wasted as a Star Captain."

Malthus nodded. "Very well. Now, this is what I would like you to do. The 2nd Jaegers are not strong enough to break the Sentinels' line on their own, and I know this man Calla Bighorn-Vlata. He will be bringing up reinforcements; we have not yet seen a great deal of heavy or assault 'Mechs, so they are out there. However, I do not intend to allow him that kind of time."

They walked to a small rise, enough for them to see the battlefield. It was quiet again, and both of them could see the 2nd Jaegers readying for a third attempt at the bridge. Malthus pointed at the forest west of Horatius. "That is Pascia Grove. I would like you to ford the river and attack there." Senefa nodded. "What do you bid for your forces?"

"I bid my entire Cluster."

Malthus raised an eyebrow. It was common custom among the Clans to fight with minimal forces, both to preserve their fighting force and to gain honor, for anyone could win with overwhelming firepower. For Senefa to bid her entire Cluster meant that either she was afraid, or she had another reason. Malthus did not think she was afraid. "Why?" he asked.

"We are dealing with an opponent who will use every weapon at his disposal to break through here. These Spherians have little honor; they do not engage in zellbringen, they do not engage in batchalls. So I see no reason to continue to play into their hands. If I use my entire Cluster, we can break through their line and turn their flank. If all goes to plan, I can cut off a whole battalion of their 'Mechs inside Horatius. They may relieve them, but there will not be many left to be rescued. The sooner this campaign is over, the sooner we can leave for home."

Malthus smiled. "Ah, eager for the Bloodname, _quiaff_? Very well, Senefa; you may attack in half an hour. I want the Sentinels to be pinned by the 2nd Jaegers first."

"Yes, ovkhan."

* * *

_"Wars may be fought by weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of the men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory."_

_--General George S. Patton, Jr._

_Pascia Grove_

_Planting, Jade Falcon Occupational Zone_

_13 November 3050_

The first and only warning Ceta Battalion's 1st and 3rd Companies got of the Jade Falcon attack was a sudden hurricane barrage of Arrow IV missiles. The missiles were unguided, but that was cold comfort to the Sentinel MechWarriors.

Tooriu Kku was taking a smoke break when the first missiles hit. The concussion of the first hit nearly blew him off his 'Mech, and he fell back inside his cockpit. Cursing loudly but finding nothing permanently damaged, he stood, dogged the hatch shut, then strapped into his 'Mech. The _Awesome_ started forward just as an artillery missile impacted behind him, pitting his rear armor with fragments. "Apache Four, Apache Four, _come in!"_ Tooriu's lance commander, Pors Pahi, sounded both angry and frightened.

"This is Four, I'm here," Tooriu said, realizing for the first time that his cigarette still dangled unlit from his lip. He left it there, suddenly sure that if it remained where it was, he would survive the upcoming fight.

"Are you all right?"

"Five-square, Apache One. Just got a bit of rear damage, that's all." The _Awesome_ was designed as a scrapper, and it was well-armored everywhere. Tooriu brought it up alongside Pahi's _Atlas_.

Another artillery missile blasted a crater not far from them. Pahi ignored it, and Tooriu tried. He had never been under artillery fire before; the Clans had never used it. Tooriu decided he hated artillery. Give me a man to fight, he thought.

"Apache Lance, form up. We're ass-end Charlie." Tooriu brought his 'Mech into position as Apache Lance formed a loose square, open to keep the Clan artillery from killing all of them. He could see that Alexander van Thorn, 1st Company commander, was using a classic two-forward, one-back formation, giving him eight 'Mechs on the line and four as a reserve. Tooriu looked around and saw many of the trees splintered, though enough still stood to give him plenty of cover; a _Firestarter_ was down a ways off, a smoking cavity where its head used to be. Tooriu shuddered, now really hating the artillery. The fire slackened, shifting forward to the river. This time there was no flame, but a lot of smoke. "Here they come," he growled to himself, tightening his fingers on the triggers, waiting. He switched over to infrared, but there was too much fire and heat, so he switched back to vislight.

Tooriu expected some sort of probing fire, some hint that the Clans were in range, but all at once there was a torrent of fire from the smoke, tearing into the front lances with incredible violence. Both van Thorn's command lance and Dan Ormistron's heavies returned the fire instantly, but it was a ragged volley, with already two 'Mechs down. They staggered back up, but at that moment, the Jade Falcons were already across the river. Tooriu could hear a loud screech being blasted over the external speakers of the OmniMechs, even over the firing, and it made his skin crawl.

Then he was too busy to be afraid. The Clans were hitting the company with a single Trinary, and the Falcon warriors picked out indivdual targets and went after them, as was their style. Tooriu saw a _Gladiator_ turn to engage Pahi, and a _Thor_ go after Walter Milliken's _Orion_. Screw honor, Tooriu thought, and was lining up for a shot on the _Thor_ when at once a _Man O'War _surged out of the battle and came directly at him.

"You want some, huh?" Tooriu growled around his cigarette, and edged backward slowly. The Clansman closed, bringing up his arms, which ended in slim barrels. Tooriu tensed, knowing the guns would hit, and he was right. To Tooriu's surprise, the impact of the autocannon shells were not as bad as he had thought, not bad at all. Missiles followed the shells, but these only pitted the _Awesome_'s armor more. The Clan 'Mech seemed to hesitate. Tooriu did not. He mashed the triggers down, unleashing three azure bolts of PPC fire. Heat washed through the cockpit, but Tooriu ignored it, grinning as he saw the blue bolts slag armor off of the _Man O'War_'s flanks. The Clansman abruptly backed off, realizing his Omni was in the wrong configuration for this kind of fighting. Tooriu was now the one who advanced, firing his PPCs despite the rising heat scale. It had degenerated into a close-in melee, the kind of fight the Sentinels liked, though the Falcons' incredible firepower was making it more than an even battle.

Tooriu blasted the _Man O'War_ again, keeping one eye on the heat scale, not wanting to overheat to the point of shutdown. The Omni was peppering him with fire that Tooriu did not even bother to dodge. For all the damage the Falcon warrior was doing, Tooriu was doing three times as many, and the Omni was not built for the kind of pounding it was taking. The Falcon pilot was edging back towards the river, and stumbled when the 'Mech tripped over a group of splintered stumps. Tooriu saw his chance and took it, pushing his feet down and running the _Awesome_ up to its full speed, which was not impressive but was enough. He twisted the joysticks, making his blocky 'Mech twist slightly and lowering the knife-blade edge of the _Awesome_'s gigantic shoulder baffles. The two 'Mechs collided with a sound that rang across the woods; the OmniMech, already unbalanced, fell backwards into the river with a tremendous splash. Tooriu trained his PPCs on the roiling water, but the Clan 'Mech never resurfaced.

He looked around for a new target, but the Sentinels seemed to have the situation well in hand. Each Clan 'Mech was still doggedly trying to fight off a single opponent, but the Sentinels were ganging up on the Clanfolk, with heavies and lights teaming up. Where did the light 'Mechs come from? Tooriu thought, then caught the emblem on the shoulders of a _Stinger_. Hadrian's Hellions, from Stott's company on the left. Good man, Tooriu nodded; must've seen us being jumped. Looks like we're winning.

He was still thinking that when two things happened. The first was a new blast of fire from the far riverbank as another Trinary arrived. The second was a garbled cry that no MechWarrior ever wanted to hear: "ENEMY 'MECHS BEHIND US! ENEMY 'MECHS BEHIND US!"

* * *

Across the river, Star Captain Senefa was grinning widely, a death's head grin of pure savage glee. She always wore this expression into battle, though she was not aware that she was even doing it; if someone had told her, Senefa would have been embarrassed, for she was a woman who kept a tight rein on her emotions.

She had reason enough to smile. Senefa had committed Bravo Trinary of her Cluster, the 133rd Falcon Fusiliers. As she had expected, the Sentinels on the south bank had put up a stiff fight, though she was forced to commit her Charlie Trinary a little earlier than she would have liked. But it had worked; the light company guarding the flank, seeing nothing in front of them, had detached a lance over to help. Senefa's Alpha Trinary, concealed behind a wooded ridge, had gone unseen. With the scream of an Ironhold jade falcon, Senefa unleashed her unit. They rose upwards on jumpjets; unlike most Clanfolk, Senefa had seen the mobility the heavy ion jets gave, and had temporarily equipped her Omnis with them.

She alighted at the river's edge in a spray of water. The Sentinel 'Mechs were quick, and Senefa felt a wave of heat wash over her as a _Firestarter_ splashed her with its flamers and then melted more armor with paired medium lasers and machine guns. Senefa shielded her _Thor_'s cockpit with an upraised gun barrel, then lowered it, aimed, and fired in one fluid motion. The Ultra 20-class autocannon roared and literally cut the _Firestarter_ in half at the waist. The upper half of the 'Mech dropped vertically to the ground and stopped there, looking like a man standing in a trench. Senefa turned and looked for another target, only to have her warning system warble as a medium laser struck her in the back. She turned slightly, seeing that the _Firestarter_ was on its back, but not giving up, raising its arms feebly to fire again. Senefa carefully aimed and fired twice, taking the light 'Mech's arms off with shots from her large laser. She then keyed her external speakers. "Stay down, warrior. I do not want to kill you." Honor satisfied, for the Inner Sphere warrior had not given up, she turned her back on the fallen _Firestarter_ and loped over the hill, following her Trinary into the Sentinel rear.


	3. Stand and Fight

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Moving onto Chapter Three. I sort-of apologize for the level of profanity in this chapter, but as Harry Truman said, one of the greatest weapons in war is cussing. _

_Bienviedo: I'm sorry to hear about your illness. Request granted, this chapter–except for the glorious death versus a _Thor._ I can't have that; heroes don't die until the final reel! _

* * *

_"My center gives way, my right is pushed back: situation excellent, I am attacking."_

_--Ferdinand Foch_

_Duranter Ridge_

_Planting, Jade Falcon Occupational Zone_

_13 November 3050 _

The sudden shout over the open frequency brought Calla's head up. Someone shot back to shut up and identify themselves, but then the calls began to overlap each other, and Calla knew that something terrible had happened. He got his _Battlemaster_ to higher ground and zoomed in the external cameras. Smoke, both the white streamers of gunfire and the thick black ropes of burning 'Mechs, rose up from Pascia Grove. "Thorn One, Command One," Calla sent. "What's going on down there? Come in, dammit." But van Thorn did not answer, and Calla wondered if he had even heard. The voices on the radio net were getting frantic, overriding each other in fear, but one thing Calla could understand perfectly: his left flank had disintegrated.

"Green One, Command One. Come in." No answer from Shiloh Stott. Calla switched frequencies. "Hellion One, Command One, come in." Nothing from Romulus Hadrian. "Arrow One, Command One. Come _in._" Silence from Yoriyoshi Kaniwai's Go-For-Broke Lance.

"Command One, Two," Sheila radioed. "I just picked up a fragment. I think it was van Thorn. He said he was being overrun by two Trinaries, then he was cut off."

"Two Trinaries?"

"That's what he said, sir."

Calla pondered that one for a moment. Two Trinaries. He looked over the battlefield, towards Fairfields, knowing his opponent was doing the same, two men trying to read the other's mind. _Two Trinaries. Shit. We're facing two Clusters here. _Calla swung his _Battlemaster_ to the right, looking out at Horatius town. Smoke was rising from there, indicating Tigerstripe Rhialla was heavily engaged herself. There would be no help there. And he had already received a report from Elfa Brownoak, who was tied down by Elementals and had already detached one of her lances to help Rhialla. Calla slammed a fist into the side of his cockpit, letting loose a blistering series of oaths. He had been suckered, allowing himself to get hypnotized by the fight to his front, and assuming his opponent only had one Cluster because that was what Calla had wanted to believe.

"It's not over yet," Calla growled, breathing hard. "Lancer One, Command One, where are you?"

"Command One, Lancer One," came back Mira Canis-Vlata's voice, strong and clear. "I'm at the bottom of the hill, with Alpha/1. What's wrong?"

Calla cursed quickly and quietly, then hit the radio button on his joystick, mentally writing off van Thorn and Stott's entire companies. "Mira, set up a hasty defense line on the road. The left flank just went; we've got at least two Trinaries coming right at us. Get hold of Tigerstripe, see if she can break anything loose from her fight to reinforce you. Where's your other two companies?"

"Still coming up from Gray Bay. Beta Battalion's about fifteen minutes behind them."

Calla did some mental calculations as he moved his _Battlemaster_ down the hill towards his cousin's company. If he was able to hold the line for a little bit, he might be able to extract a good deal of both Rhialla's and Carabinera's company, then try to hold the line in the Duranter Hills. It meant conceding defeat here, but it was the best he could hope for at this point. He cursed again, not realizing he still had the radio button down.

"It gets worse, cuz," he heard Mira sigh, and some instinct made him look to the left. At first his heart leapt, because he saw Inner Sphere designs streaming out of the woods. Then he saw that they were in full flight, backs to the enemy, a rout in every sense of the word. Panic was spreading like a wave; Calla could swear he could watch it go from one MechWarrior to another. Even Mira's company was beginning to waver. He heard and saw someone in the fleeing mob, trying to restore order, but it was not working.  
"Command Two," he half-snarled, "get down there and find a lance commander. Organize a provisional lance with anyone who isn't bugging out and fall back to the road. We may be falling back to the ridge, so keep an eye out. Go!"

"Okay!" Sheila said, glad to be given something to do again. Not because she was bored this time, but because she was angry.

She let the _Shruiken_ coast down the hill, mouthing obscenities with an acid tongue inherited from her father. She knew the Sentinels had lost the battle, which infuriated her. She was not angry at her father, or even the Clans, but the other Sentinel warriors who were running away. She knew the Jade Falcons could be beaten; she had seen the smashed wreckage of the Falcon Guards at Twycross. She had looked into the eyes of a Clan MechWarrior and seen fear. Sheila saw some of the 'Mechs coming towards her, and it increased her anger to see that many of them did not even have damage.

A _Locust_ was out in front, far ahead of the main pack, at full speed. Sheila stopped. "Hold up!" she said over the open channel, then moved her 'Mech's weapon arm to the right. "Head for the road, rally there!"

"Fuck you!" the MechWarrior yelled back. "I'm not getting paid enough to die!"

Sheila's temper blew. As the _Locust_ shot past, she whipped the _Shruiken_'s left arm out and shoved the much lighter 'Mech. It tripped comically and went down in a cloud of dust, skidding to a halt. She turned back to the mob of 'Mechs coming at her, about eight of them, which hesitated as one for a moment at the sudden violence on one of their own. "Where the hell are you going?" she shouted. "No one gave you orders to withdraw! Did they? Huh?"

"Who the hell are you?" someone shouted back.

"I'm Sheila Allegra Arla-Vlata, Goddammit!" Sheila had never used this kind of language in her life, and let her anger flood into her voice. "You assholes! And you call yourselves Sentinels!"

The mob slowed, then stopped. Sheila blinked, realizing what she had said. _Oh shit_, she gulped. _Now they're gonna shoot me, too…what would Cat Houndlikov do? What would Dad do?_ Then inspiration struck, and before she was even truly aware she was doing it, Sheila started forward, pointing to the woods. "There's other Sentinels in there, dying! And you're running away! You miserable motherfuckers! I hate you! Gutless cowards!" Sheila ran her 'Mech towards the forest, praying it would work, afraid that at any minute, the Clans would surge out of the forest and kill her, or worse, get the rout started again.

A _Wasp_ suddenly came up alongside her and kept pace. Sheila saw the name on the light 'Mech's chest, _Tasunke-Ciqala, _Little Bird. It was Tessya Blackthorn, lance commander of the Buffalo Hunters lance. "My lance is with you, Sheila!" Blackthorn yelled. "Come on!"

The Sentinels wavered for a second, then in ones and twos, began turning around. They began heading for the trees.

* * *

Senefa had stopped firing her weapons for the most part, contenting herself with a large laser shot at the fleeing mob the Sentinels' left flank had become. She had let most of her Trinary go on ahead, because she already had her kill for the day, and there was no honor, or challenge, in gunning 'Mechs down from the back, not like this. She also knew that the Sentinels would rally, probably on the ridge, and she would need all the ammunition she had. Senefa was playing the anvil to the 2nd Falcon Jaegers' hammer, though there was still some resistance along the riverbank.

Senefa was still deciding whether or not to head southeast and cut the Sentinels off or to continue on her present course when the decision was made for her.

The 133rd Fusiliers' leading Trinary had gotten disorganized hunting down the few Sentinels who stood and fought, and none of them quite noticed Sheila's rally until it was on top of them. The first volley didn't do a lot of damage, but it surprised the Jade Falcons, who began to turn to engage.

* * *

They were too slow, and Sheila knew it. She knew she had to keep the momentum of her ersatz charge going, so she didn't even slow down. She picked out a _Fenris,_ opened fire on it with her PPCs, and ran into the midst of the Clan formation, the other Sentinel 'Mechs hot on her heels. Tessya Blackthorn let out a bloodcurdling war cry and practically tackled a _Dasher_. The Sentinel 'Mechs fired very little, and simply crashed into the Falcons, shouting, cursing, and screaming.

Sheila caught snippets of the battle out of her peripheral vision, recognizing MechWarriors from other lances and companies of the Sentinels, knowing that any sort of organization had gone out the window. The Sentinels were now basically an armed mob out for blood, angered at themselves for giving ground so easily. Another _Fenris_ unwisely tried a countercharge and was cut down for his trouble by a concentrated volley from six Sentinel 'Mechs. A _Loki_ surfaced in the melee long enough to fire off a cloud of LRMs at an unseen target, then staggered as Bienviedo Canonziado's _Victor_, smoke rising from shattered heat sinks, stepped out of a grove of saplings and took the _Loki_'s arm off with a shot from its AC/20. A _Mad Cat_ stood triumphantly over a burning _Ostroc_. Sheila, bracketed by lasers from the stubborn _Fenris_ she was still fighting, jumped back to get some room and landed almost directly next to a _Mad Cat_. The Falcon MechWarrior had no time to capitalize on Sheila's mistake as it was hit by something Sheila didn't see and went down. It struggled to rise, but was immediately set upon by a _Hatchetman_, who straddled the bigger 'Mech and smashed its hatchet down again and again into the Clansman, its MechWarrior screaming unintelligibly with bloodlust. Sheila saw a _Quickdraw_ go down under a fusillade of PPC fire from another _Loki_, which fell a moment later when a _Phoenix Hawk_ tackled it around the legs. Two other Sentinel 'Mechs jumped next to the _Phoenix Hawk_, and Sheila had to grin fiendishly as they began hacking at the _Loki_ with weapons, fists, and feet. _Ow_, Sheila thought, _they're giving him a gang_

* * *

Senefa blasted a _Locust_ apart that had foolishly charged her, but not before it had given her a bit of a fright. The Sentinel MechWarrior had done little enough damage to her armor, but had she not connected with her hasty shot, Senefa was quite sure the little 'Mech would have simply run her down. "Freebirth!" she said aloud. "It looks like a Grand Melee!" Except, Senefa added silently, even Grand Melees were not as savage as this. The savagery of the Inner Sphere warriors was not to be believed, and it was unnerving her warriors. Clan MechWarriors prided themselves on being fearless, but the idea of being beaten to death while in one's own 'Mech was something they had never encountered before.

"Alpha Trinary!" Senefa shouted over the open channel. "Fall back to the second treeline and rally there!" It grated on her nerves to have to order any retreat, but she had to buy some space and extend out to bring her 'Mechs' range advantage into play. The Falcon warriors instantly obeyed, breaking off the fight and falling back, staying in good order. The Sentinels pressed the attack, but not with the same bloody-minded enthusiasm they had shown earlier.

"Goddess Alpha, this is Alpha One One." Senefa looked over at the _Thor_ of Star Captain Kazumi, the commander of Alpha Trinary. "Look beyond the first Sentinel line."

Senefa magnified the image on a monitor. The Sentinels directly in front of her were coming in groups of twos and threes, but behind them marched units in company formation. "A battalion, at least." She switched frequencies to the command net. "Ovkhan, Goddess Alpha. Sentinel 'Mechs to my front have rallied. I am now facing four companies of effectives, repeat, four companies. My losses are approximately ten percent. Orders?"

"Goddess One," replied the saKhan, "your orders are to fall back behind the river and proceed to the rally point."

"The Jaegers?" Senefa asked.

"Have not effected a breakthrough. Pull back, Goddess One. Out." The line clicked off. Senefa stared at the radio for a moment, then sighed. One part of her wanted to stay and fight it out, but the logical side of Senefa told her that to do so would be foolish. She would maul the oncoming battalion, but the price would be too high. The Inner Spherians still had another regiment in orbital reserve. The Jade Falcons could not win the Planting campaign on the subcontinent, but they could certainly lose it there. It was time to save their warriors for a better day.

Senefa ordered her warriors to continue the retreat. Many grumbled, though enough of them knew why they were falling back and trusted their commander. A few briefly considered challenging Senefa in a Circle of Equals later on in protest, but remembered that she had never been defeated in a Circle. Star Colonel Senefa was too lethal with a staff to try that option.

Senefa zoomed in on a blue and black 'Mech of a strange design she had never encountered before. It had dropped one of her _Fenrises_, and had seemed to be in the lead of the mad countercharge. Senefa wondered who it was, and raised the autocannon in salute to her foe. "Enjoy your victory," she said. "You may not get many of them, _quiaff_?"


	4. Daughter's Day

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Chapter Four. This is the longest of my story arcs so far, so there's still plenty to go. Again, this story is rated PG-13 for a little profanity and a few sexual references. Note that even in fanfiction, characters practice safe sex. (Though somehow I don't see the Trojan Man being around in the 31st Century.)_

_Kat: Absolutely. A well-organized attack can break even veteran units, and I'm glad that you liked that. After seeing the first 10 minutes of _Transformers,_ I have an idea of what fighting the Clans would be like._

_Bienviendo: Print? Well, this isn't really "print," but who knows? Maybe WizKids will get bored with MWDA and call me up to publish my books. (I kinda doubt it, but weirder things have happened.) As for Tukayyid, no, the Sentinels won't be there. I won't steal Stackpole's thunder; there's no reason at all for the Sentinels to be at an all-ComStar show. In any case, the Sentinels will face their own share of last stands against the Clans._

* * *

_He who knows not, but knows not that he knows not, is a fool: avoid him._

_He who knows not, and knows that he knows not, is a student: teach him._

_He who knows, but knows not that he knows, lacks confidence: encourage him._

_He who knows, and knows that he knows, is a tiger: respect him._

* * *

_Pascia Grove_

_Planting, Jade Falcon Occupational Zone_

_13 November 3050_

"They're retreating!" someone yelled over the open net.

"Well, hell, let's go after them!" someone else exclaimed, and the Sentinels surged forward.

"Hold formation and damn that eagerness!" Sheila shouted. She noted with a distinct thrill of pleasure that the Sentinel MechWarriors did as they were told. "Buffalo One, put forward a skirmish line and follow the Falcons at a distance. Close up to the river if you can, but don't let them draw you into an ambush. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tessya Blackthorn replied. She began organizing a group of surviving light 'Mechs, which cautiously began trailing the Falcons through the woods. Both women forgot that Tessya outranked Sheila.

The rest of the ersatz battalion was shaking itself into something resembling a defensive line. Sheila turned and saw Mira Canis-Vlata's _Battlemaster_ coming towards her, followed closely by Max's own _Battlemaster_, a gift from a grateful Federated Commonwealth for his actions on Blackjack and Twycross. "Lancer One to Command Two." Mira's voice was full of irony. "Your orders were to find a lance commander and rally at the road. Not take command and organize a countercharge."

Sheila wasn't sure if she was being reprimanded or not. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am." Sheila was not sorry in the least, but she felt stupid without saying it.

"Sorry? What for? Pulling our ass out of the fire?" Mira laughed. "Take a lance and look for survivors in the grove. I'll take over here. Well done, Two. Well done."

"Thank you," Sheila replied quietly. She picked three other MechWarriors at random and they moved off, deeper in the grove. As she passed Max's 'Mech, she blew him a kiss. He made an elaborate show of being knocked off his feet, and the _Battlemaster_ staggered drunkenly for a second. He made up some excuse to his mother as Sheila left.

The forest was still thick, and Sheila renewed her concentration. There was no guarantee the Clans had completely left, because there were always stragglers, and the forest was a perfect location for Elementals. Magnetic scanning was picking up a great deal of fragments, and infrared was reading heat plumes everywhere. Sheila let the other 'Mechs, which were lighter, take the lead as they backtracked the Sentinels' flight. There were pieces of 'Mechs laying all over the grove, arms, legs, myomers, armor plates. They passed two wrecks, but both were missing canopies or egress hatches, indicating the pilot had bailed out. Sheila marked the location and told her command to look around for survivors. A minute or two later, they found three Sentinel MechWarriors huddled in a hedgerow, who gratefully came out and greeted their comrades. Sheila detached one of her 'Mechs to load up and take the three back to Mira's area.

"Command Two, I've got movement. One 'Mech, slow. Negative IFF."

Shit, Sheila thought, assault 'Mech. "Okay." She realized she didn't know who she was operating with. It was a _Wasp_ and a design she had never seen before, a _Unicorn._ "You two flank him from both sides. I'll come up the middle. Watch for his buddies."

The two acknowledged quickly and began moving out in a classic pincer. Sheila knew the _Unicorn_ had a PPC, and both lights could jump.

Sheila brushed past a huge tree and into a clearing. It had been as densely wooded as the rest of the forest, but five minutes of 'Mech battle had changed that. There were at least four smashed 'Mechs in the clearing, three still intensely burning. The one that was not was an _Ostroc,_ and Sheila could make out a MechWarrior crouched underneath the ruins. The other three were Clan Omnis. One was a _Puma_ and the other an _Uller_, both of them on fire so badly Sheila could not tell what had destroyed them. The last was a _Thor_, and there was no question what had killed this 'Mech, and the MechWarrior inside. The entire upper torso was a blackened, singed ruin, and the offset cockpit lay crushed underneath the missile launcher housing.

The only 'Mech standing was an _Awesome_ that looked like it had seen better days. No part of the 'Mech was undamaged, except perhaps the blocky head, and even there the paint was blistered and burned. The right arm was gone, and the legs looked badly savaged. One of the torso PPCs was unrecognizable trash, and the other was sparking. The left arm PPC was intact, however, and it tracked on Sheila for a moment. "Sheila?" a voice asked. "Babes, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me, you lech," Sheila grinned, as she recognized Tooriu Kku's voice.

* * *

_"The combat value of every unit depends on the quality of its officers. An average-trained unit, which has its weak points, can still give a good performance if it has a good commander...the value of good leadership is proved by the confidence of the troops in their leaders, the improvement of their fighting qualities and finally by success in combat."_

* * *

_Horatius Village_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_13 November 3050_

Calla Bighorn-Vlata studied the map spread out on the table before him. Over it was a plastic overlay that showed the Jade Falcons withdrawing back to the beaches of Blackett Strait. His aerial recon had already shown cargo barges waiting to take them across the strait.

Calla sighed and shook his head. With an intact regiment, he would have pursued the Jade Falcons all the way to the beach and engaged them there, pushed them into the sea. He had debated calling down the Kell Hounds, but it would be twelve hours before they could reach drop position. Worse, they would have only limited air cover, because the nearest useable airfields were at Gray Bay, while the Jade Falcons's aerofighters were less than fifteen kilometers away at the capital city of Second Try. Calla wondered if, perhaps, it was a blessing in disguise. The Jade Falcons would fight like tigers with their backs to the sea, whereas once they were across the strait and onto the main continent, they would have to spread themselves thin to cover every angle of approach. Blackett Strait was shallow and easily fordable by 'Mechs walking underwater, or through a combat drop out of range of Clan fighters. He'd have to talk to Morgan Kell's man-on-the-scene, Scott Bradley, and Ariana Winston about that.

"Dad? Here's the butcher's bill for today."

Calla looked up into Sheila's face. He glanced at the sheet of paper and sighed again. While Alpha and Beta Battalions had come through in good shape, albeit exhausted from a day's hard fighting, Ceta Battalion was heavily damaged. Rhialla's 4th Company was still operational, having only lost a lance, and some of those might be salvageable. Likewise, Elfa's 2nd was largely intact, having fought Elementals for the whole battle, but her company had been understrength since Persistence. Van Thorn's 1st Company could muster barely two lances, while Stott's 2nd Company had ceased to exist, with only three MechWarriors and their 'Mechs fit for duty. Because the Sentinels used oversized companies of four lances, that meant that 21 BattleMechs lay in the fields of Pascia Grove or in Horatius village, or in salvage bays. Much worse than the 'Mech losses were the loss of twelve irreplaceable MechWarriors, a full company's worth of men and women who would either fill shallow graves on Planting, be shipped home to their families, or be crippled for the rest of their lives. Calla set the paper down and rose to his full height of six foot three inches. His back creaked audibly, and Calla decided he was getting too old for this. "Sheila, I...uh..."

Calla momentarily found himself at a loss for words. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he still saw Sheila as a six year old tomboy in clothes dirty from wrestling in the mud or fooling around in the 'Mech bays. Now he abruptly realized his daughter had grown into a young woman, only three inches shorter than himself, a beautiful mixture of himself and her mother. And today she had turned a battle around. She had led a charge with sheer force of will, turning what could have been a disaster into a victory. He had run his _Battlemaster_ down the hill, for a moment forgetting that he was a commander of a regiment instead of just Sheila's father, seeing her do something he considered foolhardy. It may have been, but it had also worked. "Dad?" she asked hesitantly.

"Sheila..." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I just wanted to say you did good today. Damn good. I've always been proud of you, you know that, but..." He could not say any more. Sheila just moved into his embrace, telling him silently that he did not need to.

He felt something press into his chest. Gently, he moved back from Sheila's hug and saw the chain around her throat. Before she could stop him, Calla withdrew the engagement ring. He held it in his palm for a moment, then looked into her green eyes. "When did this happen?"

"It...er...on Twycross...well, before that, really...ah..." Sheila stammered, wondering how to explain herself and her somewhat sordid romance. "It's not Tooriu," she finished lamely. Calla had never said anything to her about it, but he had known about the brief flare of passion between his daughter and the big MechWarrior. Sheila knew he had disapproved of it, and it had been one reason that relationship had never gone anywhere.

"I know who it is, Sheila. I...I didn't know it had gotten this far along."

Sheila was a little upset. "I love Max, Dad. I'm not just sleeping with him." Calla turned red. It had never been easy for him to acknowledge his daughter's sexuality. "You disapprove of it?"

"Would it matter if I did?"

"What? How can you say that, Dad? I've always tried to–"

Calla stopped her with an upraised hand. "That's not what I meant, Sheila." He looked at the wooden ceiling of the hotel room he had borrowed as a command post. "My folks had died long before I met your mother, Sheila, but her parents didn't approve one bit. Here I was, a mercenary MechWarrior with no breeding, and she was the daughter of two very high government officials, an old noble line, personal confidants of Ian Davion. But we were in love, so Arla didn't give a damn what her parents thought and married me anyway, poor woman. I was just wondering if you were carrying on the family tradition."

Sheila looked down. "It would be a lot easier if you approved."

"Sheila, I've got a regiment to run and a campaign to plan...but I will have a talk with your mother tonight. It's just sudden, that's all."

"We weren't planning on getting hitched right off, Dad." She rolled her eyes. "I guess I couldn't keep it a secret forever. How long have you known me and Max were, uh, you know..."

Calla grinned despite himself. "Since that night Max hid under your bed for half an hour. At first Mom thought you had just taken a shower or something, as you were naked at the time, but then she noticed a box of condoms on the bedstand. It's nice to know I raised a smart daughter and Mira raised a smart son, but you should have stashed those behind your pillow right off. I speak from experience."

"You mean, you and Mom..."

"Your grandparents may be loving people now, Sheila, but that's because they're old. Trust me, back in 3027, they wanted my head on a plate. I had to sneak into their estate. Your mother and I seriously considered getting her pregnant just so we could present them with a fait accompli, but luckily she just eloped with me instead." Calla suddenly went pale. "Sheila, you're not..."

"Pregnant? Heck no. Do you think I would have done what I did today if I was?"

"Your mother was six weeks with you when she helped get Tormana Liao's family off Highspire." He kissed her on the forehead. "Well, allow your old man to say congratulations, at least. I love you, Sheila. And Max...Max is a good kid. Good man, I mean. I think Mom will approve."

There was a knock on the door, and Archibald Harrier stuck his head in. "Commander? Lieutenant Commander Houndlikov and Major Rhialla to see you, sir."

"Send them in, Arch."

"They want to see you alone, sir." Harrier looked pointedly at Sheila.

"All right." Calla turned to Sheila. "We're done for the night anyway. Go hit the hay, Sheila. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Sheila stood on tiptoe and kissed her father's cheek, then walked out of the room. She came to attention as Marion Rhialla and Catherine Houndlikov walked in and saluted crisply. Both women returned the salute. Marion slapped Sheila's shoulders. "Good work today, kid. We'll make a MechWarrior out of you yet." Houndlikov said nothing, only managed a faint, somewhat disapproving smile.

"Thank you, ma'am. I try."

"You try pretty good." Marion winked. "Snowbird." She walked into the room and closed the door.

Sheila thought for a moment. No one had used her old nickname in years. She shrugged and headed out.

Calla returned Houndlikov and Rhialla's salutes. "Ladies." He turned to the maps. "Cathy, I've decided to consolidate the regiment and move up gradually to Blackett Strait. We're not going to catch the Falcons anyway, and we still have to deal with Fort Pilum on our right flank before we secure Dunbarton." As the two women moved closer, he cupped his hands around Second Try. "I want to land west and east of the city, using the 50th Heavy Cavalry on the western flank and the 2nd Kell Hounds on the east. The 2nd can also drive north and relieve some of the pressure from the 20th Arcturan Guards at Tel Akbir."

Catherine nodded. "I like it, Calla, but that's not what we came to talk about."

Calla looked around. "What is it, then?"

Marion Rhialla leaned against the map table. "Calla, let's face it. We'd be discussing defense plans for Gray Bay if it wasn't for your daughter today."

"I know, Marion." Calla looked at his boots. "She did damn well today, no question. But I don't–"

"With all due respect, sir," Marion interrupted, "she's being wasted where she is right now. She's a glorified courier. And you can't say she's necessary for headquarters defense, because you've got a good regimental command lance, including yourself."

Calla shook his head. "I'm not kicking anyone out of lance command, Marion. That's nepotism of the worst kind. Sheila can handle a lance; hell, she can probably fight a company. But right now my problem is I have too many officers and not enough MechWarriors. As it is, some of the lance commanders may need to take temporary demotions to stay in the cockpit. No go. Sheila deserves a promotion, there's no doubt, but not at someone else's expense. She wouldn't want it that way."

Catherine stepped in between them. "Calla, I see no reason to beat around the bush. We think Sheila shouldn't have a lance or a company."

"Then why–"

"We think she should have a battalion."

Calla's mouth fell open. When he got over the shock, he said, "That's impossible, Cathy! Where am I going to find MechWarriors for a new battalion? Shit, we don't have enough to fill out Ceta as it is, not after today–and that's assuming I think Sheila's ready for it!"

"Calla, _we_ think she's ready. Besides, who else do we have? Alexander van Thorn got hit pretty badly today; he's out for a few months. Shiloh Stott is one of the best light company officers we have, but he can't run a battalion–and we need him too badly to run lights. Elfa's a LAM pilot, and she doesn't want the job."

Calla looked at Marion, who shook her head. "Neither do I, Calla. I want to stay with my company. I had a battalion once. Never again." Calla knew the reason behind that: Marion Rhialla had once commanded a mercenary battalion, but they had been wiped out by a House Liao unit before the Fourth Succession War.

"And we talked to Elfa. She thinks Sheila should have a shot at battalion command," Catherine added.

Calla looked from one woman to the other. "I don't believe this. You're asking me to jump Sheila two ranks to Lieutenant Commander? Just like that?"

"Why not?" Marion said.

"Why _not?_ My God, talk about nepotism! The regiment would have me shot!"

"No, they would applaud it," Catherine said.

"Okay, why?"

Marion levered herself off the table and began to pace. "Calla, it's time we faced the cold, hard facts of life. We're not getting any younger, the three of us, and neither are the other senior officers–your cousin, Todd Canis-Vlata, or Alex van Thorn. I'm fifty. Catherine's forty-six. You're forty-five."

"I know how old I am, Marion. Get to the point."

"Calla, I've seen these Clan MechWarriors. They're _young_. And look at the majority of the Sentinels. The company and battalion officers are in their late thirties or early forties, at their youngest. But our line MechWarriors are between seventeen and twenty-five. We've got an age gap. I can't relate to half my company. I don't know what they like. I don't know what music they listen to. I can't stand the way they dress. I know they think I'm an old battleaxe."

"And I know what they call me when they think I'm out of earshot," Catherine chuckled. "Fact is, Calla, Sheila is their age. They believe in her. You should have seen the griping and bitching I heard when she got court-martialed. Half my battalion thought she got railroaded. She can _beat_ the Clans, Calla."

Calla glared at her. "Are you saying we old fogies can't?"

"Oh, sure. Old age and treachery always work over youth and vigor. But Calla, we've gotten set into tactics for fighting House Kurita and everyone else. These Clanners tear us up when we use those tactics. We win by sheer luck, Calla, or because the other commander's an idiot. Persistence, we did all right because we were in an old Castle Brian. Rasalhague, we weren't anything more than the rear guard. The less said about Blackjack the better, and Twycross was dumb luck and Kai Allard. And today...your plan was perfect, Calla. _If_ we were fighting the 2nd Sword of Light or Stapleton's Iron Hand. But that Jade Falcon Cluster overran Ceta in a matter of seconds." Catherine put a hand on Calla's shoulder, a remarkable show of warmth for her. "I'm not saying we should hang up our cooling vest, Calla. What I am saying is that we should get some new blood into high command, someone who doesn't think like we do. Sheila is the best candidate for that."

Calla sat down and put his head in his hands. He sensed that they were right. Sheila was being wasted where she was, and no one else in the Sentinels had the training, the ability, and the popularity that she currently enjoyed. The father in him rebelled at the very thought, because he knew Sheila would be willing to risk more than he was willing for her to risk.

After a few moments, he looked up. "What did you have in mind?"

Catherine turned to Marion, who stopped pacing. "More of a demi-battalion than a real battalion, Calla. Two companies of 'Mechs, and a company of tanks. We've been wanting to mess around with combined arms for awhile, anyway, and that'll shut up the treadheads who say we look down on them. Twenty-four 'Mechs and twelve tanks." She pulled a sheet of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to Calla. "I did this on the way over, so there will have to be some changes. I know if Sheila has a chance, she'll take the pick of the litter, and we can't afford her to grab _all_ the best warriors. So if we let her choose a lance or two and assign the rest, I think everyone will be happy."

Calla scanned the sheet. "So you're proposing we disband Ceta–"

"For now, anyway," Catherine interjected.

"We disband Ceta," Calla continued with a quick dirty look at Catherine, "assign most of the survivors from Stott's, Brownoak's, and van Thorn's companies to Sheila, allow her to grab eight people she wants, and just turn her loose?"

"Why not?" Marion repeated. "After all, it's what you did when you formed this regiment."

"Sort of..." Calla's voice trailed off. "Elfa as commander of the 2nd Company?" He looked up sharply at Marion. "And you're taking a demotion to lance commander?"

She nodded. "Calla, I'm an assault 'Mech pilot. Always have been. I'm way out of my depth as a light company commander, because I keep forgetting they're not built for scrapping. Put Stott in my place. Besides, with me and Elfa there, we'll be able to keep Sheila from going too wild or making dumb mistakes. Well, some of them, anyway."

"And we fold what's left over into Alpha and Beta Battalions," Catherine said, "which should fill us out to about full strength."

Calla rubbed his chin in thought. What they said made sense. "Sheila will need time to train and get used to a new battalion," he mused.

"It's going to take us two weeks to close up to Blackett Strait and ready a new offensive," Catherine replied. "That should be plenty of time. And I propose that we don't throw Sheila to the wolves right off. She can take out Fort Pilum. It will be a tough nut to crack, but I doubt the Clans will leave frontline units there. It should give us a chance to blood the new battalion without getting them all killed."

Calla handed the sheet back to Marion. "I want to sleep on it. Right now, I've had one too many surprises for one day." Caught between the twin glares of two very strong-willed women, Calla sighed. "I _tentatively_ approve." He looked at the map. "God help her."


	5. Forming the Battalion

AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Chapter Five. PG-13 once more...gad, what is with these young lovers? They just can't keep their hands off each other._

_Kat and Rouge: Yeah, Calla did take the news that his daughter's getting married and sleeping around rather well, didn't he? Well, he _did_ admit to doing virtually the same thing when he was younger, and he also already knew about it since Sheila's mother had caught them earlier, though Max and Sheila didn't know it. However, I like what both of you had to say, so I think I'll address that in the next chapter._

_"When you command this regiment, Captain York–and you probably will–command it."_

_–Colonel Owen Thursday, _Fort Apache

_Sentinel Base Planting_

_Horatius, Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_14 November 3050_

Sheila collapsed backwards into her chair. She looked up at Marion Rhialla. When she got her voice back, the only thing she could think of was, "Why?"

Marion squatted down on her haunches. "I told you why. You're young, you're skilled, you're innovative, and you have the ability to command." She paused for a moment. "And you have something very few of us in this regiment–hell, in this army–have."

"What's that?"

"You're not afraid of the Clans." Marion smiled. "Neither am I, but that's because I'm an old lady who, in many ways, has lived her life. If I die tomorrow, it'll be with a smile on my face, because I've had a full life.

"Young people are different. You have your lives ahead of you. Oh, most of you come out of the Nagelring thinking you're the next incantation of Napoleon, but the first battle usually cures that. After that, most people simply buckle down and do enough to survive. Some just run away. Some idiots continue to think they're immortal, and they either become one of two things: crazy brave people that do well, or corpses. And then you have a few who don't think they're immortal but aren't cowards and aren't stupid. They excel at what they do. Most of the time it's because they realize their enemies are flesh-and-blood and, therefore, can be beaten." Rhialla smiled. "You're one of those people."

Sheila stood up shakily and walked to the window in the tiny one-bedroom apartment that had been requisitioned for her. "I'm not ready, Marion."

Marion straightened up. "None of us are, Sheila. Not completely. You can go through all the book learning, all the map problems, and all the live-fire exercises, but the only way you'll ever really learn all the tricks is to fight a battle." Marion shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you won't have me and Elfa Brownoak backing you up. Both of us have experience going all the way back before the Fourth War. We'll keep you out of trouble and let you know if you're screwing up."

"And my dad agreed to this?"

"Not without some arm-twisting by me and the Iceberg, but yes, he did." That morning, Calla had informed Marion that, if Sheila wanted it, he would approve. The regiment would be the one giving the final say, because Calla would cancel the project if there were a hue and cry about it. Marion had already leaked the idea into the fastest known form of communication, the rumor mill. So far, she had heard most people favorable to the idea–assuming it worked. They were less concerned about who commanded the new unit rather than if it could be proven to beat the Clans on a regular basis. And that, Marion knew, would be the tough part.

Sheila began to pace. "Let me see if I can figure this out, just for the mental exercise. Assuming I accept this, and I'm not entirely sure I will, I have to create a unit that can defeat the Clans more than once."

"That's right."

"How in the heck do I do that, Marion? You act like I have some sort of super-power."

"You do." Marion pointed to her head. "It's your brain. Everybody has one, but not everyone uses it." Marion put her hands on her hips. "You're being given two companies of 'Mechs and a company of tanks, maybe some infantry too. How you organize it is up to you. How you fight it is up to you."

"Do I get to choose my own MechWarriors and tank guys?"

Marion shrugged again. "I suppose so. I have a list of volunteers, actually. Most are from Ceta, but they're a good bunch. You're only getting a few greenies. But you can pick others if you like. Just don't go overboard, 'kay?"

"Are they Sentinel-style companies or are they standard House-style companies?"

"House-size, I suppose."

Sheila shook her head. "Not good enough. I want companies that can fight a Trinary head-on. Fighting twelve to fifteen is bad odds. I want sixteen 'Mechs on the field."

Marion nodded. "I suppose we can do that. You might have to make some concessions with your dad, but we can probably arrange it."

"Okay. Did you choose tank crews?"

"Well...no," Marion said sheepishly. "I don't associate much with treadheads."

"Then let's get Dick Cannon to send us some." Richard Cannon was the commander of the Sentinels' Tank Battalion. "I want you to take a look at them, Marion, and make sure he's not dumping his problem cases on us."

"Very well." Marion began to smile widely.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because all of a sudden, you're acting like a commanding officer of a battalion."

Sheila blushed. "I suppose I am." She looked outside the window. On the plains beyond the Horatius River, 'Mechs were being fixed, and a few were being run through their paces. Sheila remembered playing with toy 'Mechs when she was a child, building forts and then deploying her forces to get at her friends' toys. Sheila had played with dolls as well, but invariably they had been commanders of 'Mech units. While the other girls would play house, Sheila would dress up her dolls with medals and gaudy uniforms and act as if they were going to a formal ball to be awarded the Commonwealth Medal of Honor from Prince Davion himself. Her favorite book had been about Jennifer Steiner, the last of the warrior Archons. She idolized Katrina Steiner, the leader of the Lyran Commonwealth during the Fourth Succession War, known for her ability to lead people. At the Nagelring, she had dreamed of one day taking her place alongside her father, wearing the single diamond of the Lieutenant Commander.

Sheila's battalion.

She turned to Marion. "Marion, why are you blowing sunshine up my ass?"

Marion's smile faded. She took two steps forward and jabbed a finger into Sheila's chest, hard enough to leave a bruise. "I do _not_ blow sunshine up _anyone_'s ass, Sheila. Not Houndlikov, not your father, and certainly not you. If I didn't think you could do this, then I wouldn't be up here. I'm not begging you to take this battalion, Sheila. If you don't want it, don't take it. But if you think that I'm toadying up to you, well, I told Max Liao to ram it up his bum once, so I don't have any fears of telling you the same."

"Then why do you want me?"

"Because you can win."

Sheila stared into Marion's grey eyes. In them, she saw the hardness of granite. Marion was no sycophant. She would not accept half measures, nor would she accept anything less than the truth.

"If they'll take me, I accept."

Marion's lips slowly parted in a grin. "I knew you would." She was only mildly surprised to see tears in Sheila's eyes.

* * *

_"I don't know what effect these men will have on the enemy, but by God they frighten me."_

_–Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington_

_Sentinel Base Planting, Horatius_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_18 November 3050_

Max Canis-Vlata walked into the small room Sheila was using as an ersatz office. They were quartered in a hotel, and with Sheila's promotion, now had one of the place's suites. It was certainly not the Avalon Astoria or the Solaris Hilton, but it was adequate and even comfortable. "Hey, babe," he called out from the doorway.

"Mm," Sheila answered distractedly. She was sitting in a chair next to a wooden table, which was piled high with maps, papers, and technical readouts. Max walked in and shut the door behind him.

"Still working on the operations order?"

"Mm-hm."

Max was used to Sheila's monosyllabic answers as of late. There had been no formal taking-of-command ceremony; Sheila was simply put in charge of the new battalion, which as far as he knew, did not even have a name yet. It would not be called Ceta Battalion, but something entirely new, a change everyone had agreed on.

What had not been agreed on was the makeup of the new battalion. Two companies of 'Mechs and one of tanks was not the issue, but its MechWarriors, tank crews, and techs were. As Sheila had predicted, units had attempted to unload their problem cases on her. A tongue-lashing from Marion Rhialla and another from Elfa Brownoak had ended that practice, though Sheila had made a few exceptions. Sheila had handpicked a number of people as well–some were people she had fought alongside, some she had known for years, and one–Max–she loved. No one mentioned anything about Max's presence, even those who were aware of his relationship with Sheila; his war record stood on its own.

When it came to command and organization, Sheila either had been trained for at the Nagelring, or she had learned the hard way, in battle. Logistics, intelligence, and paperwork she was trying to learn. Here Max was able to help her, for he had a knack for logistics that he was just learning he had. Combat leadership of a battalion was something she would have to learn by doing.

He could not help but smile at the new rank boards on her collar. On a field of red–the color of blood and MechWarriors–was pinned a single diamond, the emblem of a lieutenant commander, the Sentinels' rank for battalion commander. They were still so new that they caught the light, but as Marion had told Sheila, one saluted because of the rank, not how shiny the emblem was.

"How goes the planning?" Max asked.

Sheila dropped her pen on the table, leaned back in her chair, and rubbed her eyes vigorously. "I'm exhausted," she groaned, exaggerating by letting her tongue loll out like a tired dog. "There's so much to remember, so much to do..."

"You've done op orders before."

"Sure, but never like this."

Max took a seat across from her. "It's not helping that we don't have a solid roster yet, either. Kind of hard planning a mission when we don't even know what forces we'll have."

Sheila leaned forward and handed him a sheet of paper. "Actually, we do have a solid roster. After much screaming, yelling, and gnashing of teeth, but it's done. The No-Name Battalion is ready to go."

"We have got to get a name," Max said, taking the paper.

"We'll come up with something before we're activated."

"We'd better, otherwise your dad will start calling us 'what's-their-name,' and it'll stick." Max scanned the sheet.

_[blank Battalion_

_Alpha Company_

_Command Lance_

_Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata, Shruiken_

_MechWarrior Kaatha, Griffin_

_MechWarrior Marcus Drax, Phoenix Hawk_

_MechWarrior Felisanna, Wolfhound_

_Recon Lance_

_Lance Commander Tessya Blackthorn, Wasp_

_MechWarrior Philip Scott, Aquarius_

_MechWarrior Tinyak Fernplanter, Unicorn_

_MechWarrior Frederick Matria, Chameleon_

_Heavy Lance_

_Lance Commander Maximillian Canis-Vlata, Battlemaster_

_MechWarrior Charles Badaxe, Atlas_

_MechWarrior Maria Thyatis, Wolverine_

_MechWarrior Brefudd Dari, Axeman_

_Beta Company_

_Command Lance_

_Major Elfa Brownoak, Phoenix Hawk LAM_

_MechWarrior Mary Scott, Wasp _

_MechWarrior Larry Stohr, Stinger _

_MechWarrior Michael Vragel, Stinger LAM _

_Fire Lance_

_Lance Commander Tooriu Kku, Awesome_

_MechWarrior John Lawson, Archer _

_MechWarrior Arthur McKenna, Archer _

_MechWarrior Eric Jerome, Archer_

_Heavy Lance_

_Lance Commander Terry Nutter, Stahlgehen_

_MechWarrior Maysa Bari, Rifleman_

_MechWarrior Togan Nordkoping, Excalibur II_

_MechWarrior Stefan Jones, Thunderbolt_

_Assault Lance_

_Lance Commander Marion Rhialla, Perennium_

_MechWarrior Troms Fiordur, Palladium_

_MechWarrior Alfred Dennison, Perennium_

_MechWarrior Ted van Kull, Palladium_

"Still haven't gotten the tanks down yet," Max commented.

"Nope. We've got the crews, but we're still trying to figure out what we need as far as types and how we'll make it up. I convinced Mom to attach a platoon of infantry to us, so we'll have to integrate all that..." Sheila cradled her head in her hands. "I don't know the first damn thing about tanks. Probably a good thing we're not using them on the first op."

"We're not?"

"No. Dad's bringing down the Kell Hounds and the 50th Heavy Cav to take and hold beachheads for the Sentinels, either side of Second Try. That leaves us strapped for DropShips."

Max raised an eyebrow. "We're still going for a combat drop? That's a bit much for a new unit, I'd think."

"Remember that most of these people are vets, Max. They've done combat drops. Besides, it's not like we're coming in from high orbit. It'll be a dustoff, just like on Twycross. Except that we have just one _Union_ instead of a couple of _Leopards_."

"Wait a second. One _Union?_ That's it?"

Sheila nodded. "Afraid so. All Dad could spare. We'll have plenty of air support, so that's good. Plus–hopefully–we'll be catching them by surprise. They won't be expecting us to drop into the middle of the fort."

"Mainly because it's insane."

Sheila smiled. "That's why it'll work."

Max rolled his eyes. "Well, you'll certainly prove your ability to use unorthodox tactics." He picked up the paper again. "Most of these people are from Ceta Battalion, but I notice you've got Kaatha and her daughter on here."

"Kaatha and Felisanna are a matched pair."

Max looked at her over the top of the paper. "You do know that they can't stand each other, despite being mother and daughter."

Sheila nodded. "Kaatha requested it. She wants to do some bonding, I suppose. Felisanna's shown her stuff on Rasalhague, and she saw some action on Twycross as a liasion to the Kell Hounds."

Max shrugged. "We're not a self-help group, but okay. Drax is a good man."

"Apparently he and Felisanna have been dating off and on, so I thought this way the three of them would cover each other's butt."

Max read down the list. "Tessya Blackthorn and Philip Scott...wasn't he the guy who defended you at your trial?"

"The same. Scan down to Elfa's command lance."

Max's eyes went wide. "_Mary Scott? _I thought the only thing you two agreed on was that you hated each other."

"Me too, but she came to me yesterday and said she wanted to join up. Said something about being tired of being stuck doing the same-old same-old and wanted to do something interesting." Sheila rolled her eyes. "Adrenalin junkie. Anyhow, she shook my hand and we agreed to let bygones be bygones."

"I hope she doesn't decide to frag you."

"Well, you know the old saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer."

"I hope you're right. Who's Frederick Matria and why are we allowing him to pilot a friggin' _Chameleon_?"

"Some crazy SOB from the old Planting militia. Apparently he and some of his buddies stayed underground and he managed to steal a _Chameleon_ somewhere down the road."

"The _Chameleon_'s a training 'Mech."

Sheila stretched and stood up. "Yeah, but he's modified that thing. I don't know what he's packing in that machine, but it isn't machine guns. The techs were salivating all over it. He knows the territory, and he's managed to stay loose against the Jade Falcons for almost four months. That's not bad. I want a guy like that on my team."

Max nodded. "Can't argue with that, but I still think he's nuts, taking a training 'Mech up against Omnis." He returned to the list. "Whoa, whoa. Maysa Bari, Sheila?"

"Sure, why not?"

"You mean other than the fact that she turned sixteen two weeks ago? Sheila, she's not even old enough to be drafted."

"I know, but remember that she's been more or less raised by the entire regiment." Maysa Bari had literally been found on the doorstep of the Sentinels' temporary base during an assignment to Zebelgenubi. No trace of her parents had ever been found, so the child had been adopted. Though technically Marion Rhialla was her foster mother, Maysa had grown up in the regiment. She, Sheila, and Mimi Stykkis had all been childhood playmates, ever since Mimi had pulled Maysa's hair when she was five and Sheila had hit Mimi with a stick in retaliation. "She learned how to do field repairs when she was eight, Max. And she's been piloting 'Mechs on trials since she was twelve. She'll do okay."

"I'm not worried about her skills. I'm worried about her personality. Maysa would shoo a fly out the door before she'd kill it. She bursts into tears if she gets a repair job wrong. I don't know if she can handle this."

"Maybe so, but Marion refused to join unless Maysa was allowed in. So either way, we're stuck." She leaned over his shoulder. "Aren't you going to look at your lance?"

"Probably should, huh?" Max ran his finger down the list. "I know Brefudd Dari; he's a good guy. Maria Thyatis is a newbie, but she did okay as a pathfinder when we dropped into Gray Bay..." His finger stopped on Charles Badaxe's name. "I don't know about this dude."

"What about him? Other than the fact that he's a newbie too."

"I know him a little. He's a rich kid. He's playing MechWarrior, Sheila. That _Atlas_ of his looks like it just rolled off the assembly line. His pop owns one of the largest myomer companies in the Inner Sphere. He's doing this for fun."

"Or maybe for patriotism?"

"Why didn't he join up with the AFFC, then?"

Sheila smiled wryly. "He gave Elfa some crap the other day, so I think he has some authority issues."

"And you stuck me with him? I thought you loved me."

"I do. Max, you can tell people to go to hell and make them look forward to the trip. Charles will do a heck of a lot better with you than anyone else." Sheila shrugged. "If he doesn't take it seriously, he'll get killed. That simple." Sheila paused, and grinned at Max. "Actually, I think he joined up with the Sentinels for the oldest reason of all."

"It's not money; he's got plenty of that."

"Okay, second oldest. He joined because he's trying to impress Maria Thyatis. He's nuts over her."

"That I can sympathize with." Max reached and drew Sheila's lips to his. They kissed for a moment, then Max got to his feet and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Sheila asked. Max did not reply, but locked the door. Realization dawned. "Oh, I get it," she giggled. "But we're going to have to go next door to get to the–"

Max didn't allow her to finish the sentence, but instead grabbed her, kissed her vigorously, and pushed her back against the table. Sheila let out a muffled "eek!" of surprise, but made no move to pull away. When they finally broke their kiss, Sheila felt herself being pushed back on top of the table. "Max, no! We can't–not on the charts–not the operations orders, Dad will kill me–"

Max settled the argument by shoving it all onto the floor. "How's that?" he asked, nibbling on her ear.

"Oh-okay, but the maps are under my butt, and..." Max's hands were busy underneath Sheila's blouse. "And...mmm...oh, what the hell..." They could always buy new maps.

Max smiled down at her. "I'm sorry, Sheila, but higher rank always turns me on."

Sheila went after the belt on Max's fatigue pants. "Shut up, Lance Commander."

"Yes, ma'am."


	6. Time On Target

AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Chapter Six. No 'Mech battle this chapter; that comes next time. Also a lot of references to _Patton_ in this one; it's one of my favorite movies. (Sheila quotes George C. Scott at one point, and also Christopher Plummer's Klingon general from _Klingon Academy.) _Not sure if my Latin is correct on "Nemo Paribus," but oh well. _

_The roster for the Snowbirds' first opponents, the Peregrine Solahma Cluster, is according to the _Jade Falcon Sourcebook. _Of course, that roster is for Tukayyid, but I had to get it from somewhere._

_Kat: thanks. Sheila's adaptability and use of unorthodox tactics is why she's in command. _

_Rouge: Wow, a long post. But Sheila herself doesn't pilot a light 'Mech (her _Shruiken_ is 70 tons); the mediums and light in her lance is basically to protect her and give the lance mobility–I admit it's not perfect, and will indeed change. (Though the _Wolfhound_ is tougher than many mediums.) IMHO, assaults are too slow to coordinate a fast-moving unit like the Snowbirds, and less effective than normal against the Clans; remember, we're talking mostly 3025-era 'Mechs here, with some mods like double heat sinks, but little else. No C3 either...yet. _

_The _Chameleon _was explained by Max in the last chapter: "I don't know what he's packing in that thing, but it isn't machine guns." So it has been modified. I usually use LRM missile boats in my Fire Lances, like _Archers,_ or like you said, _Catapults. _In any case, this is the roster of the Snowbirds when I first played them (yes, I've gamed out this assault) some years ago._

* * *

_"Don't delay. The best is the enemy of the good. By this I mean that a good plan executed violently now is better than a perfect plan next week. War is a very simple thing, and the determining characteristics are self-confidence, speed and audacity. None of these things can ever be perfect, but they can be good."--George S. Patton, Jr._

* * *

_Horatius Village_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_19 November 3050_

"Attention!"

Elfa Brownoak's bark snapped across the clearing like a pistol shot. Instantly every man and woman there snapped to attention, eyes to their front, where a wooden dais had been placed. To either side of the dais was a flag: to the left, the fist-and-starburst of the Federated Commonwealth; to the right, the blue-and-white flag of the Sentinels RCT.

Max Canis-Vlata came to attention like everyone else. He stood just below the dais, facing the crowd of twenty-one MechWarriors and twenty-four infantrymen. The battalion was meant to have tank crews, but those details would have to wait until after their first mission. Every person there was dressed in the gray fatigues of the Sentinels–not dress uniforms, but working clothes. Sheila wanted to make it clear that this was a combat unit, not a show battalion.

Max could not resist a smile of pride as his fiancee strode down the narrow aisle between the two halves of the battalion. Sheila wore a uniform unlike the others in her battalion, because she wanted to make it clear who was in command. The uniform was a white jumpsuit, set off by a dark blue half-hourglass which began between her breasts and widened to her waist. Dark blue stripes ran down the sides of the pants, which were tucked into MechWarrior boots. A cape of the same color fluttered behind her, bound at her throat with a simple clasp. It was not ostentatious: the only decoration on it were the rank boards at her collar, a nametape, and a pin indicating her status as a MechWarrior. She walked down the aisle at a brisk, purposeful walk and strode past Max, winking at him. Other than that, she gave no hint of emotion, though Max knew she was nervous as a cat inside.

Sheila reached the dais and turned to face her command. Elfa spun around on one heel and stomped one foot, coming to attention in the Davion style, though her palm-down salute was Steiner fashion, and sharp as any cadet recuit at the Nagelring. "Battalion is present and accounted for, ma'am!"

Sheila returned the salute. "Very well, Major. At ease." The unit made that move with precision as well, clasping their hands behind the small of their backs and standing with feet slightly apart. Sheila was reminded of a line from an old movie: _they look mighty pretty...but can they fight._ Sheila resisted the urge to smile. _Well, we're about to find out._

She took out a small piece of paper from a back pocket, unfolded it, and read it solemnly. It was the orders her father had given for her to form and take command of a combined arms battalion. A breeze had picked up, snatching at the paper and her hair. When she had finished, she replaced the paper in her pocket, then faced her command. She licked suddenly dry lips, steadied herself, and began.

"I think at this point is where I'm supposed to give a rousing speech," Sheila said, surprising herself with the clarity of her voice. "Well, I won't do that. I don't have to. All of you here have heard those speeches before, and hearing another one from me isn't going to change things one bit.

"You also know our enemy. While it's tempting for me to give you a Patton speech and talk about how we're going to grease the feet of our 'Mechs with their guts and so on, so forth, and such like, you wouldn't be impressed. That's for holos and war bonds speeches. You know the Clansman is tough. You know they are motivated. And you know they have invaded our space. But that would be telling you what you already know."

Sheila paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She had not really rehearsed this speech. "So I'll tell you something that maybe you don't know. We are all volunteers here–no one was drafted into this battalion. I don't know all of you–not yet–but I know that for every person here, there is a different reason for why you joined. Some of you maybe fight for money, because you're broke. Maybe you fight for pride. Maybe it's family–like me, you were raised in this regiment. Maybe you fight because you like it. Maybe it's because you hate the Clans. It doesn't matter. All that matters to me is that you _do_ fight.

"Because that is what this unit is all about. Fighting. While not all of us here have seen combat, we all understand the need to fight. There are merc units that are busting contract to get away from the Clans, and there are units that surrender the first time they even spot a Toad or an OmniMech. But we are not. My father formed this battalion not so his daughter would have her own command. He formed it because he recognizes–as a lot of us do–that we can no longer fight the Clans like we would have other opponents two years ago. Our job is not to fight a defensive battle if we can help it. We exist to _attack_ the Clans, to hit them first, fast, and hard.

"In the Sentinels' order of battle, this unit is listed as not a battalion, but a Special Missions Combined Arms Team. Special Missions, because our job will be to fight unorthodox battles, in unorthodox fashion. Combined Arms, because this unit will not be just MechWarriors, but also infantry, tankmen, aerofighter pilots, and techs. And Team because that is what we are." Sheila waved her hands over them. "Take a look around at the man or woman next to you. Your life may depend on that person. That is why I said _our_ space earlier. Yes, our space–because the Inner Sphere belongs to all of us, whether we were born in Marik space, Kurita, Liao, Periphery, Davion, or even right here in Steiner space. We have fought over that space since the fall of the Star League, but it is still _ours_. And no Clanfolk has earned the right to come here, take away our space, and dictate to us how we should live–even if living is no more than the Succession Wars, it is still _our_ Succession Wars. Whatever your nationality, you are Sentinels. I am not interested in the name of your father, or your mother's lineage. What I _am_ interested in is how well you fight, and how well you think. Any moron can fight, but it takes a warrior to _think_ and fight.

"Our first mission will take place in 24 hours." She paused for a moment to let that sink in, and the inevitable talk to quiet down. "That's not much time, but I'm afraid the war won't wait any longer. I can't tell you what it is right now, but I will as soon as we're in the air. It'll be a dustoff, and I can tell you that it will be risky and vital."

Sheila motioned to Max and Marion Rhialla, who picked up a box and began going through the crowd, handing out patches. She threw her cape back to expose the patches sewn to her shoulders. On her left arm was the sword and crossed arrows of the Sentinels, but the one on the right was identical to that being handed out. It depicted a diving snowy owl against a dark blue background, wings outstretched to encompass the patch. In its claws were clutched missiles, and beneath the owl was a minature Sentinels crest. In a scroll atop the patch were the words SNOWBIRDS SMCAT, and beneath the patch, another scroll with the words NEMO PARIBUS.

"Not all of us speak Latin here, so I'll translate," Sheila said, raising her voice slightly as people murmured about the patches. "_Nemo Paribus_ means 'no one equals.' Maybe that's a little cocky, but that's all right. One way or the other, our combat record will prove it. I intend that we live up to that standard that we will have no equals."

"What's a snowbird?" someone asked from the ranks.

"I'm sure there are many other meanings," Sheila replied, "but the snowbird on New Kyoto is a fierce bird of prey. It is vicious, and once it gets hold of something, it never lets go. Snowbirds also form tightly-knit flocks which band together for mutual defense and hunt collectively, unlike some raptors, such as falcons." The inherent meaning in that statement was not lost on the people before her. Sheila did not mention it was also her nickname, or that it had been Marion's idea to dub the new battalion with that name.

Sheila had hit the end of what she had planned to say, but it seemed that there had to be something more. "Everyone here knows who I am," she said. "I'm Sheila Arla-Vlata, daughter of Calla Bighorn-Vlata, the regimental commander. But I am not here because of my parents. I was selected to command because it is thought by some that I have what it takes. I hope that's true. I will lead you to the best of my ability. You are not here to make me look good. Nor am I here to make you look good. We will make each other look good, because we will be good.

"Before the battle of Normandy in ancient times, in 1944, a paratrooper general asked his men a simple question. Like him, I've tried to eat alongside you, talk alongside you, and train alongside you." She looked at them, not surprised that her eyes were misty. "Now...Snowbirds...will you fight alongside me?"

Sheila would never know who it was who first shouted "Yes!" She saw Max take up the cry a half-second later, but already he was drowned out by other shouts, yells, and cheers. She smiled and felt moisture on her cheeks, but she did not wipe it away.

Marion Rhialla caught her eye, and Sheila was surprised to see tears on her cheeks as well. _Remember this,_ she mouthed.

_All my life,_ Sheila mouthed back. She added to that in her mind:

* * *

_"In the development of a commander, nothing is more important than the outlook with which he approaches his problems."--B.H. Liddell Hart_

* * *

_SDS _Morningside 

_Assault Drop, near Fort Pilum_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_21 November 3050_

Sheila gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut harder. The _Morningside_ was hitting turbulence, and though it was not as bad as going through atmosphere, it was of little comfort. She was still terrified. And worse, she was alone.

Ever since Twycross, Sheila had been seized with an irrational fear of dying in a DropShip. She was not sure why it bothered her so much; the only reason she could come up with was the fact that she was not in control. Sheila had never thought of herself as a control freak, but she hated being dependent on a DropShip crew she barely knew and over ten thousand moving parts, the failure of any one of which could send the ship into a death spiral and take her with it. There was nothing to do about it, because she and half her battalion were sealed inside the _Morningside_ until it touched down.

_It could be worse,_ she thought, as the _Morningside_ jarred alarmingly, _we could be doing a combat drop._ The idea of falling ballistically from near orbit in little more than a controlled crash chilled her blood. She had never done a combat drop and had no desire ever to do so.

_Come on, Sheila,_ she told herself, _get a grip. You've got a battalion to run._ Miserably, she tried to shut out the rattles and bumps and mentally reviewed her orders, once again.

It was a simple task, really. Having secured a base of operations on the Dunbarton subcontinent, the AFFC task force was moving onto the main continent of Planting. The 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalion of the Eridani Light Horse and the 2nd Kell Hounds Regiment were to secure zones to either side of the planetary capital, Second Try. Since the Kell Hounds' dropzones were between Second Try and another city, Foshinur, they expected to hit more resistance; they also were to try and relieve pressure on the 20th Arcturan Guards, which had taken heavy casualties on the Tel Akbir Peninsula northeast of Foshinur. Once the zones were secure, the Sentinels would cross Blackett Strait and come ashore. With secure beachheads to either side of Second Try, the Jade Falcons would be hard-pressed to hold the city. Calla hoped that he would not have to fight for the capital, but that the Clan warriors would pull back to better ground.

The fly in the ointment of the plan was Fort Pilum, which stood on the Dunbarton subcontinent's northern shore, directly across from the Kell Hounds' dropzones and the Sentinels' beaches. It had been built as part of the planetary defenses, with thick ferrocrete walls protecting several dozen launch platforms for surface-to-space nuclear missiles. With the disappearance of WarShips from the Inner Sphere, the missiles had long since been removed and the silos filled in. However, the fort still possessed military significance, for there were eight batteries of Long Tom heavy artillery pieces. Located under bunkers of steel-reinforced ferrocrete, they were virtually impervious to anything but planetary bombardment. The Long Toms could rain shells onto the Kell Hounds and the Sentinels, so they had to be neutralized. This was not as hard as it sounded, Sheila reflected, because all eight Long Toms were controlled by a central firing system. If the control room could be taken, the Long Toms' autoloaders could be shut off, and the batteries themselves could be taken at leisure. Theoretically, that part of the mission was not Sheila's job, but the platoon of infantry that would follow in the Snowbirds' second wave. The Snowbirds' mission was to destroy the Star of 'Mechs and the few dozen Elementals defending Fort Pilum. Since the Jade Falcons had made little indications of evacuating the garrison along with the forces that had already crossed over to Second Try, intelligence had figured that the unit was likely a punishment unit with second-line BattleMechs. Sending two companies of 'Mechs after such a small target was overkill, but Sheila knew her unit was being blooded with an easy win. It would give both her and her battalion confidence for harder battles to come.

_If I survive the damn drop,_ she groaned inwardly as the DropShip bucked yet once more. Outnumbering her opponent five to one, Sheila had decided to throw fancy tactics out the window and just run over the Falcons; the quicker they were wiped out or surrendered–which she sincerely hoped would be the case–the sooner Fort Pilum would fall and she could relax. She had discarded her original plan to drop into the middle of them, because it was questionable whether a unit that had only trained together for a little over two weeks could handle such an audacious move. Because of the lack of DropShips, she would hit the dropzone with only twelve 'Mechs instead of all twenty-four, but she had mixed her units up a little, replacing Tessya Blackthorn's Recon Lance with Marion Rhialla's Assault Lance. Seeing a heavy company of 'Mechs heading at them would hopefully make the Falcons think twice about defending a hopeless position; they would either flee under the water of Blackett Strait or surrender. _Shock and awe,_ Sheila smiled to herself. _It's a good plan...of course, it has to work..._

"Commander Arla-Vlata?" The use of her rank–the Sentinels typically left the 'lieutenant' off the rank of Lieutenant Commander in the interest of brevity–sent a momentary thrill through Sheila. "This is Captain Samson."

"Go ahead, Captain," Sheila replied, trying to control the quaver in her voice. "What's our TOT?" TOT stood for Time on Target, when the _Morningside_'s pads should touch the ground.

"TOT is six minutes, Commander," Samson replied. "But there's a problem."

_Uh oh._ "What's wrong?"

"We just got the word from the recon sweep." The Sentinels had sent over a two-aircraft reconnaissance mission over Fort Pilum earlier, to make sure that the Falcons were still there. If they had evacuated, then the Snowbirds were to simply move on and join up with the Eridani Light Horse.

"Are they still there?" Sheila asked.

"Yeah, but there's more of them than we thought. They've most likely detected us, because they were getting on line inside the fort. Estimated strength is one Trinary, repeat one Trinary, of BattleMechs. Unknown number of Toads." Samson paused. "Commander, if you want to abort the drop, now's the time."

"Give me a few seconds to think, Captain." Sheila switched off the radio before the captain could reply, because she had to have those seconds. A full Trinary of 'Mechs meant fifteen 'Mechs, and even if they were second-line 'Mechs, they would equal her unit in firepower, even if she had her entire battalion with her. With only twelve 'Mechs at her disposal, she would not only be outgunned, she would be outnumbered.

Sheila almost switched the radio back on to tell Samson to abort, but then had second thoughts. True, it did change things significantly. Yet she had good MechWarriors, nearly all of which had seen action. The dropzone was in good defensive ground. The Jade Falcons hated to defend; they liked to attack. If they were already forming up, it was because they would march out to meet her. She had to hold the dropzone for thirty minutes, long enough for the second wave to arrive. Worse, if she abandoned her attack, the AFFC units would come under artillery attack. It might mean nothing–Long Toms would only hinder the invasion, they could not stop it–but Fort Pilum would still kill friendly soldiers, whose blood would be on Sheila's hands. The Snowbirds would never live it down, even if they covered themselves in glory later on. They would always have to live with the failure of having never tried.

_We can do it,_ Sheila told herself.

She switched the radio back on. "Captain, sorry about the delay. Continue mission. We'll go with what we've got."

The respect in Samson's voice made all the difference to Sheila. "Very well, Commander."

"I need a favor."

"Name it."

"See if you can't get some airpower our way. Even if it's only a strafing mission. And let the second element know about the new info. The reserve just became the reinforcements."

"On it, Commander. TOT now four minutes."

"Thank you, Captain. Arla-Vlata out." She switched frequencies. "Snowbirds from Snowbird One. The plan just went out the window. They've got a whole Trinary down there. We're going in anyway, but we're not going to just waltz in. I want to secure the dropzone and hold it until the second wave gets here. Once we're all together, then we take the fort. We're going to get some air support. Lance commanders, check in."

"Tiger One, let's do it," Marion chimed in.

"Canis One. We're with you." That was Max. Sheila smiled. She knew he would agree, even if sometimes she wished he would not.

"Okay. Get ready for dustoff in three minutes." Sheila went to her lance frequency. "Snowbird Lance, check in."

"Two." Kaatha.

"Three." Marcus Drax.

"Four." Felisanna.

"Okay." Sheila tightened her straps as she heard the DropShip's pads begin to extend into place. "Here we go." She gripped the control sticks on either side of the command chair and tried to ready herself. She closed her eyes again and tried to slow her breathing. _Just a little bit further...c'mon, God, just a little bit further..._

She was pressed back into her seat as the _Morningside_'s braking thrusters came on full blast, shaking her 'Mech so much her teeth rattled together. The shaking abruptly stopped as the DropShip settled onto the soil of Planting with a heavy thump, then the bay doors began to roll open.

"Snowbird One, _Morningside,_" Samson said. "Deploy for combat. Go! Go! Go!"

"Deploying, _Morningside,_" Sheila replied. "Thanks for the ride." Sheila pushed the pedals to the floor; her _Shruiken_ crouched and then sprinted out of the bay. Quickly she moved the 'Mech's wolflike head from side to side, scanning for targets, but there were none. She was off the drop ramp and onto Planting in seconds, and she kept her speed up, heading for a copse of trees that formed the western edge of the dropzone. On a secondary monitor, she saw the rest of her lance following her out–Kaatha's _Griffin_, Drax's _Phoenix Hawk_, and Felisanna's _Wolfhound._

Sheila rapidly moved out of the radius of the DropShip's engines, which could melt a BattleMech that got too close when it took off, and made it to the trees in about a minute's time. She checked her chronometer and turned her 'Mech. Max's lance, consisting of his _Battlemaster,_ Charles Badaxe's _Atlas_, and Maria Thyatis' _Wolverine_ were heading for their objective, the beach marking the northwest corner of the dropzone. Brefudd Dari's _Axeman_ had been "downed" by the techs because of a faulty autocannon linkage, and Sheila had reassigned him to the second wave. Taking his place in Max's lance was Maysa Bari and her _Rifleman_. Sheila hated the idea, but Marion had insisted that Maysa had to learn, and the sooner the better. Sheila questioned Marion's parenting skills in that regard–not to mention her sanity–but Maysa had meekly agreed. Sheila wondered if the shy teenager could handle the pressure, conveniently forgetting that Sheila herself was not yet twenty. Still, she was moving the ungainly _Rifleman_ with surprising grace.

Taking up position on the southern edge of the zone was Rhialla's Tigerstripe Legionnaires lance. It was the heaviest and most experienced lance she had, all of them consisting of 100-ton monsters. All four MechWarriors were old hands with experience back to the Fourth Succession War; Rhialla and Alfred Dennison, her best friend, piloted _Perenniums_, while Troms Fiordur and Ted van Kull had _Palladiums. _Both were on the same chassis with the same engine, but differed in armament. The _Palladium_ carried four PPCs with the heat sinks to fire all of them simutaneously, while the _Perennium_ replaced two PPCs, as well as some secondary armament, heat sinks, and armor with two of the new Gauss Rifles. The Legionnaires were Sheila's reserve unit, designed to tear apart anything that got past the Command and Heavy Lances.

_"Morningside,_ Snowbird One," Sheila radioed. "Units deployed."

"Very well, Snowbird, we're raising ship," Samson replied. "You've got air support inbound. Call sign is Paloma. God be with you, Snowbird."

"Thanks, _Morningside._ Same to you." Sheila braced her 'Mech against a tree as the _Morningside_ lifted off, its engines scorching the ground nearly to the bedrock and buffeting the 'Mechs with the pressure wave. It faded as the DropShip rode a white fiery pillar into the sky. Sheila watched it go for a moment, then turned her attention back to the situation at hand.

"Snowbird, this is Paloma," a new voice said into her earphones. "We're two Stingrays coming up from the northeast. What's your position?"

"Paloma, we're holding the northwest, northeast, and southern corners of DropZone Yurika. Do you need me to pop smoke?" Smoke was usually used to mark friendly lines; every BattleMech had smoke grenade launchers for that purpose.

"Negative, Snowbird, I see you." Sheila looked up and two F-92 Stingrays rocketed over her position, waggling their wings. The Stingray was made by House Marik, and excelled in atmospheric fighting as much as space, with forward-swept wings for better handling in low-speed, turning dogfights. Sheila knew Paloma–the pilot's name was Mary Krin, who had been with the regiment since the War of 3039.

"What are you carrying, Paloma?" Sheila asked. The hardpoints on the Stingray's wings looked empty.

"I'm afraid we're strafe only, Snowbird–hello, here's the bad guys." Krin paused for a moment. "Snowbird, you've got about fifteen 'Mechs heading your position from the west–from the fort."

"Are they Omnis or second-liners?"

"Looks like second line, Snowbird." Sheila let out a small breath of relief; at least intel had gotten that one right. "Snowbird, we're low on go juice, but we'll make two passes and try to thin the herd a bit. We're trying to get a little more for you, but the Hounds are running into some heavy opposition, and I'm afraid you're sucking hind tit."

"That figures," Sheila said without pressing the radio button. When she did, she said, "Two passes, roger that, Paloma."

"Making our run now," Krin said, with all the excitement of someone waiting to catch a bus. Sheila waited, looking in that direction, but there were rolling hills between her and Fort Pilum, and no way to see the Clans. She did make out the two Stingrays rolling in from on high, and they were closer than she thought they would be.

The Stingrays disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared heading skyward at full speed, with missiles and laserfire in their wake. The lead Stingray caught two missiles, but kept going.

"Hey, Nut," Sheila heard Krin yell at her wingman, "did you see that sonofabitch that hit me? I just lost a damn heat sink."

"Rog, Paloma–looked like a _Dervish._"

"A _Dervish_? Great, we got Fedrats fighting us now. Take the lead on the next run; I'm going to do in that bastard."

"Roger that, Paloma."

The two Stingrays flew upwards, rolled out at the top of their climb, and came down again. Once more there was a flurry of weapons fire, and then the two aerospace fighters were again heading upwards. "Got him!" Krin crowed. A cloud of black smoke rose in their wake.

"Looks like you did, Paloma," Sheila radioed. "Thanks."

"Not a problem, Snowbird. Sorry we can't stick around, but we'll be back. I got a _Dervish_ and I think Nut here knocked out a _Crab_ for you. Looks like the rest are about five minutes out." There was a pause. "Good luck, Snowbird. See you on the flip side."

"Roger, Paloma. Thanks again."

Sheila informed her unit that the Jade Falcons were coming, and then found a good position in some trees. Behind her, Rhialla's lance took up position in the center, atop a small rise, which allowed her to sweep the field. Sheila looked down the treeline and saw Max's _Battlemaster._ She wished she could see her lover, blow him a kiss, something to show affection. It could be the last time.

She forced those thoughts from her mind. She had to concentrate, or die.

"Enemy 'Mechs to our front," Drax sang out. The Jade Falcons had arrived.


	7. Battle for the LZ

AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Finally, another 'Mech fight! Yay! Movie afictionados will recognize a homage to _We Were Soldiers_ in this chapter. And yes, the 'Mech battle was gamed out–though I will admit that the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Can't have the Snowbirds get wiped out on their first mission. Finally, the use of a LRM salvo to clear mines is Classic Battletech canon rules. _

_Kat: strangely enough, it was Patton who said that courage was just fear holding on a little longer. I never really thought of the Snowbirds' name being Clanlike, but given what will eventually happen to them, it only makes sense. And I noticed you and Rouge have started a collaboration–I will get around to reading that!_

_Bien (you're right, I can't spell it; my Spanish is worse than my Japanese): Hopefully this chapter will make you change your mind. I know my 'Mech battles are short compared to Stackpole's early work, but I just don't have the mental stamina to write five chapters of a single 'Mech battle. I get bored with the story. _

* * *

_Sector 0731, West of Fort Pilum_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_21 November 3050_

They came on in a standard formation of three lines, in a classic two-forward-one-back, not unlike Sheila's. They stopped on a hill just out of effective range, bringing all three Stars out in the open. _Looks like I'm not the only one trying to employ shock and awe,_ Sheila mused. To her surprise, she was not frightened at all; she had to admire the way her opponent dressed line. It was as sharp as a parade.

All of the 'Mechs were Star League-era types, 'Mechs Sheila knew only from history books. The Star to her front had a _Bombardier, _an _Exterminator,_ a _Champion,_ and a _Hussar_–this apparently had lost one to the strafing run. So had the unit directly behind the other two: this one had a scarred _Warhammer_ in the center, surrounded by a _Mongoose_, a _King Crab,_ and a _Sentinel_; the irony was not lost on Sheila. The Star opposite Max's lance was at full strength, and was impressive–two _King Crabs_, another _Bombardier_ and _Exterminator_, rounded out by a _Wasp_ that looked like an afterthought. There was no battlearmor to be seen, which pleased Sheila, who was acquiring a hate for the infantry suits.

"I am Star Colonel Cewers of the Peregrine Solamha Cluster, Clan Jade Falcon," said an authorative voice. The _Warhammer_ stepped forward. "This area is mine to defend. Who do I have the honor of facing?"

_Is he for real?_ Sheila asked herself. She had only heard of this in bad romance novels and holovids. "Star Colonel, this is Lieutenant Commander Sheila Arla-Vlata of the Snowbirds Special Missions Combined Arms Team, Sentinels RCT." She did not step out of cover.

Cewers sounded a little disappointed. "Commander, what forces do you bid to defend yourself?"

_Bid? What the hell is he talking about...oh, right. He wants me to tell him what I have._ "My whole force," Sheila responded.

"You have three of your lances," Cewers replied, making it a statement rather than a question. "In that case, I bid six of my 'Mechs. Will you observe _batchall?_"

Sheila had to think about that one, which did not take long, since she had no idea what he meant. "Star Colonel, I'm afraid I don't understand."

Cewers sighed in obvious frustration, but what he was going to say Sheila would never know. At that moment, the _King Crab_ in his Star moved past, shouting on the open frequency, "I am MechWarrior Voshin of the Peregrine Solahma Cluster! I challenge any of you freebirth barbarians to fight me, if you have the courage!"

"Go fuck yourself!" Rhialla yelled back, and opened fire. Two azure bolts followed closely by two silvery Gauss bullets split the air and tore into the _King Crab_'s jutting torso, which sat low to the ground, like its namesake. Voshin was obviously not ready for the sudden onslaught, for the 'Mech pitched backward and landed hard.

There was an audible roar of indignation from the Peregrines, and Voshin's Starmates surged forward, firing on Rhialla's 'Mech. A few shots flaked armor from the _Perennium, _but most went wide as Rhialla smoothly side-stepped her machine. The Snowbirds fired back a volley, the Jade Falcons charged, and the fight was on. Both Cewers and Sheila lost overall control, and the fight degenerated into a melee, with MechWarriors trying to kill their nearest opponent.

* * *

Marion Rhialla grinned as Voshin's _King Crab_ got to its feet and let fly with a large laser bolt. It splashed across her armor, melting a long score in it, but she ignored it as she targeted the _Hussar,_ which was running to flank Sheila's command lance. Two PPC bolts and two Gauss Rifles later, it was a burning wreck, and Rhialla turned her attention back to the _King Crab_, which was marching forward, closing the range to use its two heavy autocannons. Rhialla stepped back a few meters and opened up with another salvo, staggering the Clan 'Mech. "Come on," she laughed out loud. "You think you're something, you little shit? I've killed better than you before breakfast! Come on and be damned!"

* * *

Maria Thyatis was not having as much luck, or fun. In fact, she was quite sure she was about to die. A _Champion_ had come at her, radioing a challenge. She had not replied, but answered with a shot from her PPC and a salvo of SRMs. The _Champion_ had absorbed them and kept coming, raking her with missiles of its own, plus a few lasers. She twisted to one side to avoid the huge bore of an autocannon, but she was a trifle too slow, and a shotgun blast of man-sized pellets spewed from the gun. Maria stumbled backwards, throwing up her _Wolverine_'s arm to protect her cockpit from being hit. Warning sirens blared at her, warning that her 'Mech's right arm and most of her right leg's armor was gone. Worse, she saw the _Champion_ was circling behind her, and an _Exterminator_ had arrived, coming in from her left.

* * *

The _Exterminator_ pilot was an old veteran of many Clan battles, and it disgusted him that the freebirths had been so dishonorable to refuse a _batchall_ and then open fire. Now his own Starmates were attacking in groups as well. He snorted derisively and veered away from the _Wolverine_, looking for the _Battlemaster_ he had seen earlier. That would be a far more worthy target, and at least someone would be maintaining their honor.

He was still mumbling about honor when Charles Badaxe's _Atlas_ stepped out from a copse of trees. He quickly turned to fight, but Badaxe opened up with nearly every weapon the gigantic assault 'Mech had. Lasers and SRMs tore into the armor of the Clan 'Mech, but the autocannon did the worst, blasting through the torso and ripping into the gyro. The _Exterminator_ toppled forward and skidded a few meters before coming to a halt. It seemed to rise weakly to trigger two medium lasers at the _Atlas,_ but it was like throwing peas at an oncoming train. With a rebel yell, Badaxe drew back and delievered a savage kick to the _Exterminator_, finishing off the gyro. "Hey, Maria!" he yelled out. "You see that? I got the sonofabitch! I got the sonofabitch!"

* * *

_Shut up and go get another,_ Sheila thought as she leapt over the smoldering remains of a _Mongoose_ that Rhialla's lance had destroyed. The rest of her Command Lance was being engaged by one of the _Bombardiers_, the _Warhammer_, and the _Wasp._ The _Wasp_ had jumped behind Drax's _Phoenix Hawk_ and had already ripped up its back armor. Sheila tapped the jump pedals and her 'Mech rose on ion jets. She half-turned in midair and tensed up; the _Shruiken_ landed with a slight jar and her crosshairs lit up with a perfect sight picture on the back of the _Wasp._ She brought up the twin PPCs and fired. Both bolts sizzled into the _Wasp'_s back; the light 'Mech arched backwards, eerily humanlike, and then collapsed in a fireball, Sheila having torn through it. _I guess they don't armor their lights any better than we do,_ she mused as she turned her attention to the _Warhammer_ that was busy engaging Drax to the front. "Snowbird Three from One," she radioed. "Quit trying to spar with him. I've got your back–get behind him!"

"Roger, One, will do." Drax twisted away from two PPC bolts and began edging to one side of the _Warhammer_. It began to track him, but then Star Colonel Cewers saw the _Shruiken_. Sheila instinctively dropped into an en garde stance, daring the Clansman to attack. Cewers sketched a brief salute and moved in to battle.

Only a few meters away, Felisanna and her _Wolfhound_ and Kaatha in her _Griffin_ were working on the other _Exterminator_. The Clan 'Mech was devlishly fast, but the MechWarrior inside was caught in a bind. If it turned to engage the _Griffin_, it would leave its back open to a flank move from the _Wolfhound_. If it engaged the latter, it opened itself up to a quick jump from the _Griffin._ The Clan warrior backpedaled and turned to the _Wolfhound_, but Kaatha peppered it with LRMs and then savaged its left arm with a PPC. Felisanna closed the distance and opened fire with everything, her lasers carving scars in its limbs. Felisanna skipped away from the return fire, taking a few in return, then let fly again. The _Exterminator_ was hit hard and stumbled backwards as Kaatha once more hit with her missiles. Whatever differences existed between mother and daughter, in battle they were a flawless team, and the Jade Falcon warrior was realizing it. He pulled back further, trying to open the range.

* * *

Maysa Bari was in her first battle, and knew she should be terrified. She wasn't, and wasn't sure if that was bad or not.

In fact, it seemed ridiculously easy. She had found a good spot, a small knoll that kept most of her 'Mech under cover. A _Sentinel_ rushed past the initial line of battle to flank around Rhialla's lance, which was slaughtering any Clan 'Mech that got within range. Maysa dropped both of her _Rifleman's_ arms and waited until the crosshairs pulsed gold, indicating a lock. The _Sentinel_ turned to face her, but that only simplified Maysa's targetting. She squinted slightly and pulled the triggers, sending large laser bolts and autocannon fire at the Clan 'Mech. The _Sentinel's_ autocannon was sliced off at the shoulder, with overspray hitting the left torso. The Clan warrior fired back with lasers and SRMs, but Maysa moved slightly and avoided the lasers; the SRMs blasted a little armor from her torso, but that was all. She then twisted the _Rifleman_ to one side slightly, aimed, and fired again, the newly fitted double heat sinks keeping the heat down to manageable levels. This time her shots penetrated the _Sentinel's_ right torso and slagged the SRM launcher and a medium laser. The _Sentinel_ pilot halted, fired back, and hit, then backtracked. Maysa ignored the damage and moved forward, this time taking one of the Clan 'Mech's legs off. The _Sentinel_ collapsed to the ground in a spray of dirt. She moved closer, but the Clan warrior weakly raised the stump of its left arm. "_Rifleman_," she heard over the open channel, "I surrender. I am no longer able to resist."

"Er..." Maysa hesitated. "Um, sure. Okay, I accept. Just, ah, stay there, okay?"

"Your prisoner, MechWarrior," the Clan warrior replied, and powered down his machine.

_Wow,_ Maysa thought. _This is easy. Wonder why everyone says it's so tough? Heck, I've had tougher sims._ She looked around for another target.

* * *

Max manuevered his _Battlemaster_ and dodged an autocannon shot from the _King Crab_. His opponent was no novice, and had shown it, getting into close range very quickly. Only Max's dodging had kept the Clan warrior from connecting with the twin heavy autocannons that represented the _King Crab_'s main armament. The _King Crab_ was taking its own share of beating, for it was not as manueverable as Max's _Battlemaster_; Max had savaged its low-slung torso with medium lasers and SRMs, and Max barely had to glance at his heat monitor.

Abruptly, the _King Crab_ stumbled backwards, its clawlike hands splaying wide, teetering as its feet slipped. Max immediately closed the distance to finish it, and realized that he had just fallen for the oldest trick in the book. The wily Clansman had simply acted as if he was hit worse than he was, and as the _Battlemaster_ closed, the two claws swept back in and fired so closely that Max felt the vibration from the autocannon shells.

With an oath, Max slammed the joysticks to one side, making the _Battlemaster_ lean to one side. It saved his life. One of the shells smashed his PPC to junk, but the other whistled past his canopy to tear into the armored side of his 'Mech. The armored glass starred from fragment hits; Max instinctively stabbed the triggers down. The four lasers of the _Battlemaster_ stitched across the _King Crab_'s canopy and killed the man inside. Both assault 'Mechs went down in a thunderous crash.

Max was relieved to find himself in one piece, but the other 'Mech had fallen across the _Battlemaster_ and pinned it. His warning recievers warbled for his attention, telling him someone else had a target lock on his 'Mech. Max looked out and saw the other _Bombardier_ heading in his direction. Again, he tried to move, but to no avail.

Fear welled up inside him as the _Bombardier_ stopped and fired a cloud of LRMs in his direction. All Max could do was pray as the missiles scattered across the _Battlemaster_, somehow missing the canopy. "Snowbird One! Sheila!" he yelled. "I can't move! I'm down!"

Sheila, seeing that her Command Lance was at least handling itself and holding the line, had moved backwards to try and get some sort of control over the battle. She heard Max's call. "Max! Where are you–" She looked over, across the battlefield, and saw the _Battlemaster_. She turned to go in that direction, when a new voice crackled in her ears.

"Snowbird One, this is _Eve of Destruction._ We're inbound, ETA three minutes. Clear the drop zone, please."

Sheila looked up and saw the DropShip descending through the clouds. On its present course, it would come down directly into the middle of the firefight, with probably lethal consequences for both sides. She quickly glanced around and spotted another clearing to the southwest, well away from the fighting. But then she saw the _Bombardier_ advancing on her husband. Suddenly she was presented with the choice of leaving Max to fend for himself, or allow the DropShip to come down on top of the Snowbirds.

And Sheila knew what she had to do.

"Tiger One, help Canis One," she quickly snapped out. "_Eve of Destruction_, Snowbird One. The main drop zone is closed–we're in the middle of a fight. There's a clearing to the southwest; use that one."

"Snowbird, _Eve_. I can't see it. Coordinates?"

Sheila realized that the DropShip crew could not see the clearing from where they were–there was a treelined hill in the way. She brought up her navigational computer, but she would never get the coordinates in time. "Fuck!" she yelled in frustration, not caring if anyone heard. "_Eve,_ Snowbird. Do you have a reading on my 'Mech?"

"Roger, Snowbird, I've got your marker–"

"Okay, follow me to the new zone!" Sheila shut Max from her mind, turned away, and ran up to full speed. Kaatha, seeing Sheila moving, placed herself and Felisanna between the Jade Falcons and her commander. Sheila crashed through the trees into the clearing and fired off a smoke marker, just in case. _"Eve_, do you have my position?"

"Roger that, Snowbird. We're clear–better get out of the way."

"Roger." Sheila turned and began running her _Shruiken_ to the edge of the zone. Suddenly a line of five Elementals–the hated Toads–jumped in front of her, closing the range to swarm her. "I don't have time for this!" Sheila shouted, and blasted two of the Elementals with her PPCs. One seemed to disintegrate in midair, and the other hit the ground hard. The remaining three quickly decided discretion was the better part of valor, especially as the DropShip came in. Sheila kept her 'Mech upright as the pressure wave thundered around her. She looked and saw the _Union_'s drop ramps already down before the landing pads had touched ground. As they did, Elfa Brownoak's lance boiled out of the DropShip. "Snowbird One, this is Brownoak One. How's it going? We got here as soon as we could."

Sheila sighed in relief. "Brownoak, it's good to see you. How'd you get here so soon?"

"The _Eve _was supposed to carry your dad across the Strait, but he figured he could wait a bit and sent us over when we heard you were engaged. Where do you want us?"

Sheila nodded, pointing her _Shruiken_'s arm towards the northeast. "Follow me, Elfa–we'll take 'em from behind!"

* * *

_"To be a soldier, you must love the army. To be a commander, you must be willing to order the destruction of that which you love."_

_–General Robert E. Lee, _The Killer Angels

_Outside Fort Pilum_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_21 November 3050_

The rest of the battle passed in a blur for Sheila. The arrival of Elfa's company in the rear of the Clan unit made an already deteriorating situation worse. Star Colonel Cewers' _Warhammer_ was down, having been torn apart by the better part of two lances. The seven Clan 'Mechs still operational tried to break out through Elfa's unit, but once they spotted the DropShip, they quickly began surrendering. All seven were damaged enough that an underwater retreat was suicidal, and running the gauntlet of the _Eve of Destruction_'s guns was much the same.

None of it mattered to Sheila, who made her way to where she had seen Max go down. She knew she had chosen correctly, that her battalion had to come first; it was her first taste of what being a commander meant.

All she could see was the wreck of the _King Crab_, and one arm of the _Battlemaster_. "Canis One, where are you?" she pleaded, for the fifth time. There had been no response. She stepped over the smoking remains of the _Bombardier_, the third victim of Rhialla's lance.

"Hey, beautiful, over here," her radio hissed. Sheila looked and saw the greatest sight she had ever seen. Max's _Battlemaster_ was badly shot up, and missing its right arm from the shoulder joint, but it was operational and so was its warrior. "Sorry–my comm gear is hit, and I've only got line of sight."

"Oh, Max," she said. "I'm the one who's sorry–I couldn't–"

"I know," he replied, and it was enough. Sheila put a hand on her canopy, wishing she could put her arms around the man she loved. She had been afraid Max had been killed, but she was also afraid that he would hate her for leaving him. Max did not, though, because he knew Sheila, the only one who really ever had, or ever would. At that moment, Sheila knew there was no one else she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"I hate to interrupt this," Elfa cut in, "but we're a little behind schedule, and..."

Sheila wiped away her tears, putting on a stone face. It was time for Sheila Arla-Vlata to go back to the box she had temporarily be let out of, and for Commander Arla-Vlata to return and take command. "Right, Brownoak. I need a sitrep."

"We've got three 'Mechs pretty badly shot up–Max's _Battlemaster, _Maria Thyatis' _Wolverine_, and Drax's _P-Hawk._ Everyone else has been hit a few times, but we're all operational. We've captured seven 'Mechs and killed the others. Except for the Toads, we should have a clear road into the fort."

"But the fort still has defenses." Sheila sighed. "Okay, Brownoak. You and Blackthorn take point–watch for Toads; I saw some earlier. I'll back you up with Box Lance–" that was Tooriu Kku's Fire Lance "–and Nut Lance." That was Terry Nutter's heavies. "Tiger Lance backstops us." She turned to Max. "Canis, you stay here with everyone else in reserve and police up the Clanners. Be ready to back us up if we need it. Understood?"

"Roger, Snowbird." Max had to put on his game face as well.

"Snowbird One, Two. We're down a 'Mech," Kaatha put in.

"I know." Sheila looked around. "Badaxe, you're with me. Let's move!"

* * *

"Huh. I thought it'd be bigger."

Sheila smiled when she heard Tooriu's comment over the open net. She too thought Fort Pilum would be huge–the word 'fort' evoked an image of high stone battlements, ravelins, and mysterious, soaring towers.

Naturally, in the age of mechanized warfare, especially BattleMechs, such huge castles would be better suited for decoration. 'Mechs would reduce an old fort in moments; orbital bombardment would smash it flat. Fort Pilum had been built with modern warfare in mind. Its walls were comparatively low, sloped and made of earth. Sheila had read that beneath the earth was steel-reinforced concrete, with plenty of room for a large garrison to make life hell for infantry. 'Mechs were a little harder: the only things that could really stop a 'Mech formation was either a lot of infantry with SRMs or lasers, or other 'Mechs. The Snowbirds had eliminated the latter, and Fort Pilum was not supposed to have a great deal of the former.

Careful, Sheila told herself. The Jade Falcons aren't done in yet. The Peregrine unit still had approximately fifty Elementals, which could do a great deal of damage to her unit. As she watched, the eight buried Long Tom batteries opened fire. In the distance she could see explosions on the opposite shore of Blackett Strait. The Kell Hounds had not landed yet; the batteries were just finding the range. Sheila looked up out of her canopy, and saw the unmistakeable vapor trails of the Hounds' DropShips. It was now or never.

"Brownoak One, Snowbird One. Take your lance and Blackthorn around to the left–keep up your fire on the battlements, but stay out of range of the Elementals."

"Half my 'Mechs won't be able to shoot either," Tessya Blackthorn replied.

"I know, Blackthorn, but seeing your 'Mechs moving around will make them watch your flank. Tiger One, stay in overwatch. Nut, you follow us." Sheila had augumented Nutter's lance with Maysa Bari, seeing the shot grouping she had on the Jade Falcon _Sentinel_'s remains.

"Roger that," Terry Nutter replied.

"What about us, Snowbird?" Tooriu asked.

"You're the reserve. Give us five minutes, and then follow us in."

"You got it."

"Okay. Brownoak, go. Make some noise."

"On it," Elfa replied. The eight 'Mechs of her lance and Tessya's moved out at full speed. At extreme range, some of her 'Mechs with longer-ranged weapons began firing on the battlements. There was no reply, which told Sheila that the troops inside the fort had some fire discipline. As she watched, Tinyak Fernplanter's _Unicorn_ moved in a little closer, PPC blazing. Without warning, there was an eruption of earth underneath the light 'Mech's left leg, and Fernplanter, surprised, slid and fell. Another explosion rocked the light 'Mech, and two SRMs spiraled out of the fort's defenses. They fell short, and Elfa punished the firers with a large laser shot. Fernplanter got his wounded 'Mech to its feet and staggered back, gaping holes in the _Unicorn_'s leg armor.

"Mines," Sheila said aloud. "Box One, Snowbird. Change of plans. I want you to put a rolling barrage of LRMs in front of us. Can you do that?"

"Will do," Tooriu answered without hesitation. Sheila wasn't as confident; LRMs were unguided missiles, and it was likely that her own 'Mechs might pick up a few stray rounds.

Sheila looked at the chronometer, then glanced around at Kaatha to her left and Charles Badaxe to her right. The bulk of the _Atlas_ was reassuring. She took a breath. "Snowbirds forward! Box, open fire!" She pushed down the pedals, and the _Shruiken_ began running towards the fort's entrance. She jumped a little when the first salvo of LRMs whistled over her head and hit the ground in front of her. Most of the rounds just kicked up dirt, but a few went up with more violence as they struck mines. Badaxe, yelling at the top of his lungs over his external speakers, ran out ahead of Sheila's 'Mech, and she saw two LRM rounds hit the back of the _Atlas_. "Canis Two, get back here!" she shouted. "Dammit, Badaxe, what the hell are you doing?" She was ignored.

"Toads, eleven o' clock!" Felisanna sang out, and Sheila twisted the _Shruiken_ in that direction. Two of the squat, misshapen battlearmor appeared from behind the top of the wall, long enough to fire their SRMs. They struck the _Atlas_ in the right arm, but Badaxe did not stop.

The _Atlas_ was not designed for speed, and Sheila throttled back when she almost overran the assault 'Mech. Her plan had been for a two-lance deep wedge striking the fort's main gate, overwhelming the defenders with firepower and sheer weight. Badaxe had already ruined that formation, and seemed bent on taking the fort himself. _Okay, hero_, Sheila thought, _you want to show the world the size of your balls, go for it. _"Snowbird Two," she radioed, as another salvo of LRMs exploded mines around them, "go to Canis Two's left. I'll take the right–when we hit the gate, jump it!"

"Okay!" Kaatha radioed back, and Sheila shifted to one side, overtaking the _Atlas_ on the right. There was a tremendous boom and the _Shruiken_ rocked; Sheila slammed one boot down, planting the _Shruiken_'s left foot and keeping the 'Mech upright. Her eyes went to the damage monitor, which showed damage to her right leg. "Frackencrack mines," she snarled, and moved forward.

The mines proved less of a problem than she had thought; Tooriu's continous LRM salvos detonated most of the ones in her path. It seemed to take only a few seconds to reach the gate, and Sheila realized that the battlements had looked smaller from a distance. They were nearly the height of her 'Mech, and actually looked quite pretty; grass and wildflowers had long ago taken root on the earth and the fort bloomed. Sheila pressed the jump pedals down and was pushed back down into her seat as the _Shruiken_ rose on ion jets. She cleared the crest with ten meters to spare, and saw in her peripheral vision Kaatha make the same jump. She was jarred roughly as she landed in the fort's central square, which unlike the battlements was a long expanse of concrete several kilometers square. She pivotted her 'Mech around, looking for targets. The two Elementals that had fired on Badaxe appeared once more, this time jumping themselves, aiming for her. Sheila was just raising her PPCs to fire when ruby beams roughly swatted both from the air. The Elementals landed hard, bouncing and rolling down the reverse slope of the battlements, disappearing from view.

"Snowbird One, I need help!" Kaatha shouted, and Sheila turned to see five Elementals spilling out of hidden dugouts in the battlements' base, moving and firing on the _Griffin_. At that close range, Kaatha would have trouble hitting with her weapons. Already one Elemental had jumped onto the right foot of the _Griffin_ and began to climb it.

"Hold on, Two!" Sheila swept the slower Elementals with her medium lasers, then raised her left arm and fired her 'Mech's namesake. Metal discs fired from a launcher in the _Shruiken_'s wrist, and spun into the Elementals' ranks. They came apart on contact, spreading clear fluid in a wave. The Inferno fluid ignited on contact with the air, sending a sheet of fire across the Elementals and tendrils onto the _Griffin_. Even the incredible heat of the Infernos did not kill the Elementals, but it dispersed them; the Elemental that had been climbing the _Griffin_'s leg dropped back to the ground, burning like a torch. The Clansman fell to the ground and began to roll to smother the flames, but this made him a better target: Kaatha raised one metal foot and stomped the Elemental to a gruesome death.

To Sheila's left, the huge metal doors of Fort Pilum–about half the size of a 'Mech, and topped with earth–sagged inward and then collapsed as Badaxe shoved them aside. The sight of the _Atlas_, its death's-head visage seemingly grinning at the wreckage, was even a little frightening to Sheila. Badaxe strode through like a conqueror. Behind him, Nutter's lance fanned out. "Nut, secure the southern wall–get Brownoak's unit in here. Box, bring your unit up and secure the entrance." Both lance commanders acknowledged, and Sheila led her command lance to the north.

The fight with the Elementals was brutal, terrifying–and short. The Peregrine Solahmna Cluster was made up of older Clan warriors who wanted nothing more than to die in battle, or problem cases who had one last chance to make up for their mistakes. The more hot-headed or desperate Clanfolk charged the Snowbirds wherever they could, and were cut down for their trouble. Sheila ordered her units to stay close together, knowing that the battlearmor could drag down a 'Mech if they caught it alone and unsupported. The combined fire of two heavy lances and one light lance of 'Mechs ripped apart the Clan attacks before any got close enough to do more than light damage to the Snowbirds. Sheila fired only twice more in the entire fight, instead directing her lances. She watched in amazement as Maysa Bari picked off the nimble battlearmor like quail, killing at least six.

Eventually, the walls of the fort were secured. The artillery pieces, buried deep in their barbettes, were still in operation, and there was nothing she could do about that. That was the job of the Sentinels' Light Infantry.

The two platoons assigned to the Snowbirds arrived not long after Sheila had cleared the main plaza and the walls–or at least Sheila supposed there were two platoons. Only two Lynxes, the Sentinels' hover APCs, arrived instead of the usual four.

Sheila opened the side hatch of the _Shruiken_ and climbed down the handholds set into the 'Mech's torso and leg. She waved and one of the Lynxes coasted over to settle next to her 'Mech. Sheila was careful to keep her back to the _Shruiken_'s leg–just because the plaza was secure did not mean there was not a sniper lurking somewhere, waiting for someone to make a mistake, and Sheila's rank tabs on the shoulders of her cooling vest would be hard to miss.

Probably for that reason, the lanky woman who came out of the back of the APC did not salute her, merely walked up and faced Sheila. It took a moment for Sheila to remember the woman's name; they had only met once. "Captain Jackson?"

Mikkansia Jackson nodded, but did not smile. Everything about her indicated that Jackson was a type that rarely smiled. The Sentinel Light Infantry wore Davion-pattern camouflage smocks and older helmets, not the clamshell Steiner version that the AFFC had adopted in 3039. She was also heavily armed, with a Ryonex submachinegun, Sternsnacht heavy pistol, several grenades, and the SLI's trademark–a collapsible bladed staff based on the Japanese naginata. The SLI were well-trained, and the naginata was as much their own as the kukri knife had been to the ancient Gurkha battalions.

Sheila saw the rest of the platoon getting out of the Lynxes. "Where's the other platoon?"

Mikkansia scowled. "There was a bloody balls-up back at Grey Bay. We were rushed and only got most of one platoon loaded on before the _Eve_ raised ship. The rest will be here probably in a half hour." Sheila noted that Mikkansia's tone was just respectful enough for Sheila's rank, but not for Sheila herself. She was not surprised; there was a longstanding rivalry between the elite troops of the SLI and the Sentinels' MechWarriors.

"Can you take the complex with what you have?"

Mikkansia's eyebrows raised. "I have 20 men and women, Commander. How many people do you think they have in there?"

Sheila sat down on the foot of her 'Mech. "Probably not that many, Captain, and most of them are probably gun bunnies, not infantrymen or Toads. The walls are too narrow inside the complex for battlearmor." She pointed at the sky, and the contrails of the incoming Kell Hound DropShips. "I don't think we have half an hour."

Mikkansia shook her head. "I don't think 20 will be enough."

Sheila sighed. "All right. How many would be enough?"

Mikkansia looked at the sky in thought. "A standard platoon would be enough." A standard platoon was 28 troops.

"Okay. You've seen the maps, so find an entrance. I'll meet you there in ten minutes with seven other people."

Mikkansia looked at Sheila in near horror. "You mean...MechWarriors?"

"Sure. We all went through basic training."

"But..." Mikkansia's voice trailed off.

"We can shoot people, Captain. The only difference is that we won't be in our 'Mechs this time."

"They'll take orders from me?"

"Of course we will." Sheila got up. "And yes, Captain, I'll be with them."

Mikkansia put an arm out to stop her. "No, Commander! I can't have you do that. Your father–"

"My father's not here, Captain. I'm not joining you because I want to win medals. I'm joining you because it's my duty and because my mother has trained me in close-quarter fighting since I was old enough to walk. You _do_ remember my mother, don't you?"

Mikkansia stiffened. Arla Bighorn-Vlata was the commander of the SLI, having founded that branch with a company of ex-Davion Rangers before the Fourth Succession War. "Very well, Commander. Ten minutes." She turned on one heel and headed for her platoon.


	8. Fort Pilum

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Dismounted infantry action in this chapter. In my tradition of swiping from movies or historical events, the layout of Fort Pilum is very close to that of the German artillery position at Brecourt Manor, Normandy, France, on 6 June 1944–as detailed in the episode "Day of Days" in _Band of Brothers, _and in one of the missions of the first _Call of Duty_ game. Brian "The Moose" Hoose is a tribute to my second-favorite comic, _Knights of the Dinner Table.

_Bien, I answered your VERY long review (thanks!) in a personal reply. Kat, Marion Rhialla tends to be that way; I'm rapidly becoming rather attached to the old warrior, and when the Snowbirds get to Outreach in 3051, she will play a very prominent role there. As for Clan honor, I don't want to give anything away, but it will play a major role in future chapters; as far as the Jade Falcons extending honorable combat to mercenaries, I'm pretty sure they do that with the Kell Hounds at some point in the novels (I might be wrong), and in any case, the Falcons may not yet be sure that the Sentinels aren't a House unit. Especially since Clan intel seems to be "ask politely." _

_I'm glad I was able to keep you in suspense. I think I scared a lot of people with that chapter, which is good. As for Japanese, I don't speak but a few phrases here and there (though I'm notorious for "name-dropping" in my Evangelion story). I am planning on learning it fluently in the near future, though._

_Anyway, on with the show..._

* * *

The SLI platoon had taken up position around one of the heavy concrete doors. It was ominously quiet, except for the occasional rumble of the Long Toms and whistle of outgoing shells.

Sheila strode quickly over to the semicircle of sandbags that protected the entrance. There were no firing ports in the door, but the earthen roofs of the walls had hatches in them; just in case, Maysa Bari walked her _Rifleman_ up behind the infantry and covered the walls, the radar atop her 'Mech slowly turning as she searched for targets.

Sheila and her seven volunteers hunkered down behind the sandbags with Mikkansia and her squad leaders. The MechWarriors had changed into fatigues and wore borrowed flak jackets, but no helmets. A few of the MechWarriors with less bulky neurohelmets were wearing those instead, but Sheila wore only a fatigue cap. Besides herself, there was Max–who had come up with the rest of the Snowbirds once the fort's center was taken--Tooriu, Kaatha, Frederick Matria, Tessya Blackthorn, Togan Nordkoping, and Alfred Dennison. The SLI distributed what few extra weapons they had, so most of Sheila's ersatz squad carried Ryonex submachineguns. Max and Tooriu carried pump shotguns, while Matria had a Federated Long Rifle that he carried in his 'Mech. Dennison had a pair of Sternsnacht heavy pistols he carried in holsters like some old-time cowboy, and Sheila had her own ancient Smith and Wesson. All the MechWarriors carried knives in their boots, survival knives, though Tessya's had a long, slim, evil-looking blade.

Mikkansia looked over the MechWarrior squad, shook her head in either wonderment or disapproval, and directed Sheila's attention to a map she had spread on the ground. It was an interior layout of the fort's batteries. It was triangular, with two batteries to each of the northern-facing sides. The squat control tower sat in the center.

"According to the information we have," Mikkansia said to them, "each battery is in a self-contained, armored section of the fort. They have plenty of food and water, so we have to go in and take them. The good news is, they're supposed to be second-line troops, not their Toads, which are too big to fit in the corridors. The Long Toms are also fed from autoloaders; the gun bunnies in the sections only point and shoot. If we can get to the control tower, we can shut off the autoloaders, and maybe the gun bunnies will just pack it in and surrender, or kill themselves, or whatever. Any questions so far?" There were none, so Mikkansia continued. "The corridors are tight, but the central area of the triangle is a small courtyard thing.

"Since we only have 20 people, we'll divide up into three squads: mine, Moose's, and Andy's. We're not going in through that door." She motioned at the large blast door. "If I was the Clanner defending this place, I'd have a heavy machine gun covering that door. However, we're going to make them think that we are coming through the door–Commander, that's where your MechWarrior comes in." She thumbed at Bari's _Rifleman_. "I want her to burn through the door. I know it'll take awhile; I don't care. We just need her to keep on it. The second thing I need from you is to take out the periscope at the top of the control tower. It won't completely blind them, but it will keep them from seeing us make our move.

"We're going in through the top. According to this map, there's an access hatch to the top of the tower. We'll blow that in, then descend through it and take the control room. Moose, you and Andy will go through these ladderwells, here and here–" she indicated the map "–and secure the batteries, or at least seal them off. My team will secure the courtyard and the entrances, and act as a reserve."

Sheila raised a hand. "Wait a second. What about us?"

Mikkansia nodded. "I want you to divide up your people, three to Moose and Andy's squad, and two to mine. That will give us extra people where we need them. No offense, Commander, but your MechWarriors are not as highly trained as my people. I'd rather not put them into a separate squad that the enemy can key on. I'd rather you not go with us, but we are short." Sheila bit back a retort; Mikkansia had a point. All of them had undergone basic weapons training–Sheila, for her part, was an experienced martial artist, thanks to her mother, Matria had learned the hard way in the Planting underground, Togan was an unarmed combat instructor, and Tessya benefitted from her father's insistence that she learn the old ways of the Lacotah. Still, the men and women of the SLI were among the best in the Inner Sphere. Noticing that all eyes were on her, Sheila nodded.

"You're the boss, Captain," Sheila said.

Mikkansia smiled slightly. "Very well. Let's go. We do this right, the fort is ours within the hour."

Without much trouble, Maysa blew off the periscope with a concentrated laser blast. After that, she went to work on the door, occasionally stopping to let the heat bleed off a little, then starting again. The door was solid concrete and designed to prevent what she was doing; she knew it would be hours before she broke through, but it was not necessary for her to do so.

Mikkansia's platoon quickly gathered atop the tower. It was a bit of a misnomer, for it was more of a squat pillbox than a tower, with eyeslits facing out to sea. Three faced inward to the fort, but after Maysa's shooting, armored covers had been quickly slid into place. This allowed the squad to deploy at the base of the tower, staying low to the grassy roof in case someone took a peek out. Occasionally, one of Elfa's LAMs would fly by the front of the fort, to further distract the defenders.

Getting to the top was done entirely in silence. Sheila and her MechWarriors held back and stayed low, as Mikkansia's people communicated by unfamiliar hand signals. Brian "Moose" Hoose squatted down and gave one of his people a boost to his shoulders. The woman looked over the top of the tower's roof, saw no motion sensors, and gave a thumbs up to Mikkansia. She climbed to the top, quickly followed by two others boosted up by Moose. Four others of Mikkansia's squad crawled up with rope ladders; two of them unrolled the ladders and crawled to Moose's rather large feet.

The locks on the access hatch were badly rusted, so working as quietly as they could, the three SLI troopers carefully placed detonation cord around the hatch. They unrolled the fuse and carefully climbed back down over Moose, save for the woman who had gone up first; she had the detonator. Balancing on Moose's shoulders, she dropped the detonator into his left hand, and he reached up with two hand grenades. The two with the unrolled ladders rose to a kneeling position, unslinging their Ryonexes to hang across their chests.

Mikkansia looked at her watch and raised her hand. When the chronometer ticked off to zero, she swept her hand down. The woman on Moose's shoulders bent her head down beneath the tower roof as Moose pressed the detonator. The explosion had been perfectly laid, all the force projected downward to collapse the access hatch into the tower itself. Before the dust and smoke had a time to clear, the woman armed the two grenades and tossed them into the ragged hole left by the explosion, and was up onto the roof before they went off, her Ryonex ready. As the grenades went off, Moose was already twisting to one side, helping place the rope ladders, which had sharp pitons on the top edges to dig into the concrete. With barely a sound–not that it could be heard very well with the explosions–Mikkansia and her squad scrambled up the ladders, threw in a few more grenades, and jumped down into the control room.

Moose's squad went next, and Andy Mocko motioned Sheila to come up. She unslung the Ryonex and scrambled up the ladder, Max hot on her heels. The other two people with rope ladders had already secured them, so Sheila made her way down into the control room.

It was a large room, lit only by red emergency lighting and the two remaining radar screens; the normal lighting and the other screens had been blown out by the explosion. The mangled remains of one man lay under a pile of rubble; Sheila quickly looked away, though the rest of the control room did not look much better. Two other men, dressed in green jumpsuits, lay sprawled against the consoles, their bodies peppered with grenade shrapnel and bullets. One of the SLI troopers was on the floor, holding a bloody leg, and cursing as the platoon medic saw to the wound. Two others of Moose's squad was pressing a survivor against the wall, and Sheila quickly saw that the man had to be an Elemental, for he was twice the size of the men guarding him. Luckily, he looked dazed, and his pants were ripped and oozing blood, having taken a fair share of shrapnel as well. The SLI troops were yelling something at him, but Sheila could not hear them, for behind her, in the spiral stairwell leading to the courtyard and the entrance, there was the deafening sounds of heavy gunfire. Sheila headed in that direction as the rest of Mocko's squad descended down into the control room. Mikkansia roughly pushed her back before Sheila even reached the door.

"Stay back!" she shouted, though Sheila could barely hear her.

"What's going on?" Sheila yelled back, leaning close to Mikkansia's ear.

"I was right–the bastards have a heavy machine gun down there! The problem is, it sounds like they've also got a fire team or maybe a squad down there too, and they've reacted a lot faster than I thought they would, and they've got plenty of cover!"

"Can you get them?"

"Of course!" Mikkansia waved and pointed at the two other squad leaders, who opened the access hatches to the gun batteries. Luckily, these were intended for emergency use only, and so bypassed the courtyard. Moose and Mocko went to work. "Sheila, can you hold here? I need everyone I can get to take out that damn gun!"

"I'll need Fred Matria with me to disable the autoloaders, and I'd like one person guarding that Elemental!"

Mikkansia nodded. She pointed to the wounded woman. "Lisa can stay here–that guy looks like he's hit pretty badly!" She thumbed at the Elemental, who was now lying full length on the floor, unconscious, courtesy of one of the SLI men slamming a Ryonex into the back of his head.

"Okay, go for it! Good luck, Mikkansia!"

Mikkansia nodded and motioned her squad to follow her down the stairs. The other two squads began going down the access ladderwells; Max gave Sheila a quick hug before he went with Mocko. She had seriously considered telling Mikkansia that she needed Max to stay with her, but that seemed unfair, so she had said nothing. Neither had Max. She said a quick prayer for both him and the rest of her people, then went to work helping Matria shut off the autoloaders.

* * *

Moose's team went down the corridor, which was wide enough for two men. The tunnel branched off into living quarters, generator rooms, and a kitchen. As they went through, Moose counted off people to check the rooms. He and Max formed one two-man team; Max readied the shotgun as they went into a bunkroom. They heard gunfire from down the corridor, the distinctive metallic sound of the Ryonexes. There was no answering gunfire, so Max assumed that the SLI were simply doing a reconnaissance by fire.

The bunks were triple-tiered, reaching to the ceiling. A cup of coffee lay on a reading table; Moose reached out and touched it. "Still warm," he whispered to Max. He motioned for Max to check the right hand side tier while he checked the left. Some of the blankets were rumpled up, so there could be someone hiding beneath them, or under the last bunk. Max hesitantly reached out with the shotgun and pulled away the blankets, his finger tight on the trigger.

The gun sounded like it went off in Max's ear. Instinctively, he dived forward, onto the bed, even as he heard the bullet ricochet off the concrete floor behind him. Before he even had time to truly think about it, he was throwing himself back onto the bed, raising the shotgun and firing into the bunk above him. There was a shout of pain and then silence.

"Moose! You okay?" he yelled out, chambering another round into the shotgun.

"I'm okay," Moose replied. He too had jumped onto a bed, bringing up the Ryonex. His left pants leg was torn by the ricochet, but it had barely broken the skin. "Stay there." He got up and balanced on the side of the tier, looking up into the bunk. "Heh. Here I am, the professional, and you're the one who reacted quicker! You got him, 'Mech jock." Max got out of the bed, but Moose put out a hand. "I don't think you want to see what that shotgun did to him."

"Probably not." Max was going to have nightmares as it was.

"First time you ever killed a man?" Moose asked quietly.

"No," Max replied.

Moose looked into Max's eyes and saw that it was no lie or false bravado. He nodded. "Room clear. Let's go."

The door was shut, but Matria's resistance group had already gotten the codes. The door slid open with surprisingly rapidity, and the SLI was through before the door had even finished opening. They did not use grenades, afraid one might touch off an artillery shell and kill them all. It proved to be unnecessary. One look at the black-suited SLI with their submachineguns and glittering naginatas, and the gun crews quickly surrendered without a shot.

* * *

Andy Mocko's group, which included Tessya Blackthorn and Tooriu Kku, also moved down the corridor, which was similarly subdivided with rooms. The door to this artillery battery had wedged halfway open, the result of years of neglect by the Planting militia, but unlike with Moose's group, this battery crew had elected to make a stand, having thrown up a barricade of chairs and tables. Armed with submachineguns and pistols, they fired on the SLI as soon as they rounded the curve in the corridor. Mocko did not have to give an order; the squad quickly ducked into the rooms and alcoves. Tessya, Tooriu, and a SLI infantrywoman named Haruka ran into the kitchen.

Unlike the other rooms, it was not empty. There were four Jade Falcon techs in the room, taking cover behind steel counters. The two groups froze for a moment, looking at each other, then the Falcons, with a screech, charged.

It was a weak charge; one of the techs simply dropped to the floor and put his hands over his head. Another came at Tooriu with a fire axe, but Tooriu merely raised the shotgun and blasted the tech back into the stove. The third man, armed with a rolling pin, came at Tessya, but threw it aside when he saw Tessya raise the Ryonex. Tooriu felled him with a sweep of the shotgun's butt in any case.

The last, carrying a meat cleaver, came at Haruka. She dropped the Ryonex, let the man's first swipe go past her as she drew the collapsible naginata from her back. Bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, she snapped the naginata in place and dodged the next swipe. Tooriu raised the shotgun, but Tessya slapped it down; there was too much chance that Tooriu would hit Haruka. The Jade Falcon tech, with another screech tinged with fear, unwisely made a slice towards Haruka's throat; she leaned back, easily avoiding the clumsy swipe, grabbed the overextended arm, then drove the naginata into the man's side. He screamed in pain, dropping the cleaver and trying to lift himself off the hooked blade. Haruka pulled it out in a spray of blood, and as the man dropped the floor, impaled him. With some effort, she planted her foot on the corpse's back and withdrew the naginata, snapping it back closed. "Are you all right?" she asked. Tessya dumbly nodded. "Good. Stay here and guard these two; we'll take the battery." Haruka smiled at them and went out the door, picking up her Ryonex on the way.

"Hard core," was the only thing Tooriu could think of saying.

Eighteen rounds, fired from Mocko's Ryonex and the SLI sniper attached to the squad, felled the six defenders of the barricade. The second battery fell a moment later when one of the survivors waved a white handkerchief in the air.

* * *

"Damn."

Sheila looked up. "What's wrong, Fred?"

"I've got one of the autoloaders shut off, but the other's still functioning. It's not accepting my command to cease loading. I think one of the grenades damaged the computer."

"Well, they haven't fired since we got to the roof, so what's the problem?"

"That _is_ the problem. The gun hasn't been cleared. The second battery probably has a live shell already up in the gun. If the autoloader's logic stacks are fried, then it won't know not to load another round. It might slam another shell into the breech in a few minutes."

"That's bad." Sheila did not yet know the batteries had fallen, but she suspected that the gun crews would have other things on their mind than clearing the guns. If another shell was loaded, there was a chance it might contact the other shell still in the breech and set it off. Worse, the autoloader would probably keep placing rounds in the breech, meaning that, sooner or later, one of the live shells would explode, which would at the very least destroy the battery and kill everyone in it. At worst, it might cause a chain reaction that would blow Fort Pilum apart. While that would end the threat to the dropzones, it wouldn't do the Snowbirds much good. "Should we evacuate?" From the sounds of gunfire down the staircase, Mikkansia was still clearing the courtyard.

"Nah." He pointed to a hatch set in the floor. "That's the computer access tunnel–leads to the mainframe just below us. I'll just shut the whole system off manually from down there." He opened the hatch.

"How do you know so much about this place?" Lisa asked. She was leaning against one of the consoles, keeping the weight off her wounded leg.

"I used to work here," Matria said, and climbed down the stairwell. "Sheila, go ahead and open the main door. That bunch against Mikkansia might be motivated to surrender with a _Rifleman_ staring down their ass."

"Right," Sheila said, mentally slapping herself for not thinking of that first.

Lisa leaned over to look down the hatch. "He'd better hope there's no one down there–"

She was cut off when the Elemental suddenly leapt to his feet, bringing up a ham-sized fist. The SLI trooper barely had time to turn her head before the haymaker catapulted her into the ceiling with enough force to split her helmet. She dropped to the floor like an unstrung puppet, her finger convulsing on the trigger and firing a single shot, which buried itself in the console she had been leaning on.

The sound of impact and the shot was enough for Sheila to whirl around. She had set the Ryonex on top of the console she was at, but still had the huge Smith and Wesson. She brought it up, but the Elemental moved with surprising speed and grabbed the barrel, easily pulling it aside. Sheila abruptly let go of the pistol, which surprised the Clansman; the pistol flew out of his hand and across the room.

His momentum slammed her into the console. She brought up a knee to hit him in the groin, but the Elemental slightly turned, taking most of the impact on his meaty thigh with a grunt. He grabbed her right hand and forced it back painfully; with her left, she delivered a chop to his neck, but the Clansman simply winced. With his free hand, he reached past her, scrambling for the grip of the Ryonex, pressing his body against hers so that she couldn't move.

Sheila hooked her legs under the Elemental's ankles, then used her still-free left hand to poke him in the eye. The Elemental shouted unintelligibly in pain, instinctively pulled back, and stumbled over Sheila's feet. He went down, but with that same speed that seemed impossible for a man his size, he let go of Sheila's right hand, grabbed her by the front of her flak vest, and carried her back with him, Sheila letting out a yelp of surprise. She ended up on top of him, but the Clansman rolled over and trapped her again, this time against the floor.

Sheila had hurt him, her fingernails slicing his eyelids, and he was still bleeding from the shrapnel hits, though he had pretended to be hurt much worse, waiting for the right moment. Enraged with pain and frustration, he grabbed Sheila by the throat and began strangling her. The move caught Sheila by surprise, but she brought her hands up between the Elemental's arms to knock them away. He was so much larger than she was, however, and stronger, that her move only splayed his arms out slightly; his hands were still big enough to remain locked to her throat. Sheila gasped for breath. The Elemental simply tightened his grip, gritting his teeth.

With blackness crowding her vision, Sheila knew she only had seconds to live, before she passed out or the Elemental simply crushed her windpipe. Her legs were splayed out to either side of his, in a grotesquely sexual position. She brought up her right boot, scrabbled for a moment to get an arm free, and pulled out the survival knife. With her last reserve of strength, she plunged the serrated blade into the Elemental's throat, the steel slicing through an artery, its tip ripping through the man's windpipe and protruding from the front.

The Clansman did not scream. His eyes widened in surprise, and then unsteadily focused on her. Blood seeped out from between his clenched teeth, and he seemed to either contort in a rictus of pain or perhaps even a smile. His mouth opened–to scream, to curse her, or perhaps even to compliment her on winning a victory, she would never know. His last breath spit blood on her cheek, and he collapsed onto her, seeming to deflate as he did so.

"Jesus!" Matria scrambled up from the ladder, having heard Sheila's cry of surprise. She realized the fight had only taken a few seconds, but in those seconds a man had died, and she had killed him. Matria helped pull the Elemental's dead weight off of her, and shakily Sheila struggled out from under the body. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm all right," Sheila said in a small voice. "It's...not my blood." She tried to reassert control over her body, to stop the shaking. "Ch-check on Lisa..."

Matria nodded and looked over at the SLI trooper. She was still breathing, though her helmet had split down the middle and blood trickled down her face. "She's going to have one hell of a headache, but I think she'll live."

"That's...that's good," Sheila replied, then she could control her stomach no longer. She turned away from Matria and vomited violently over the console.

Fort Pilum fell five minutes later.


	9. Epilogue: Killing a Man is Never Easy

AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Not much to say, other than this is the last chapter for this story arc; an epilogue of sorts. I'm currently in the middle of a move to a new city, so posting may be light for the next week or so. Still, I'll try to do what I can._

_Kat: thanks as always. I will get to reading your stories when I remember and have a spare minute._

_Bien: whew...your last review was so long, but I'll try. _

_Question 1: Yes, my story does contradict Battletech canon, but as I said in the introduction to _Snowbird's Battalion_, it seems to me that a guy like Hanse Davion would never let an enemy catch their breath–he'd keep hitting them. Therefore, the Planting offensive. I initially wrote what became this story before _Blood Legacy_ came out back in 1990, and so I figured that the next book would deal with the Inner Sphere going on the offensive. I didn't feel like completely changing the premise, so here you are. (It also violates BT canon in the Jade Falcons taking Planting rather than Clan Wolf, as it is explicitly stated in the _Clan Wolf Sourcebook_ that the Wolves are the ones who take Planting from the 41st Avalon Hussars. I will sort of explain that in the next chapter.) The Clans pretty much keep the initiative throughout the Clan War: other than raids, there isn't any mention of Inner Sphere offensives. _

_Question 2: Probably more like _Band of Brothers.

_Question 3: Both the Snowbirds and the Sentinels will be forced into a "last stand" situation, but it will not happen on Tamar, Luthien, or Sudeten. I do have plans for the Snowbirds to be peripherally involved with the Luthien battle, but not actually onworld (don't want to steal the Kell Hounds or Wolf's Dragoons' thunder). The Sentinels will fight on Sudeten, but that won't be the spot for their last stand. I've already given some hints as to where that last stand will take place (and no, it's not on Tukayyid)._

_Question 4: Well, I haven't seen _From Here to Eternity,_ so I don't know what happens (other than the infamous beach scene). As I recall from _Casablanca,_ Humphrey Bogart leaves Ingrid Bergman (I think that's who it is) at the airport with a "Here's looking at you, kid." That isn't going to happen with Max and Sheila. I intend their romance to be a case where two close friends are thrown together by war, end up becoming lovers and then get married. Their love is based more on circumstances and hormones at first, and later blossoms into true love through the hard times. Sheila and Max will either survive the story or they'll die together._

_Question 5: They do use mob tactics. Check out Sheila's Command Lance fighting the Star Colonel's _Exterminator _in Chapter 7. Max, Maysa, and Marion ended up fighting alone because of literary license (Max, to provide tension in the chapter; Maysa, because she will end up a major character as the story goes on; and Marion, because she's piloting a 100-ton killing machine). _

_Question 6: Look at the Snowbirds' order of battle in Chapter 6, and you'll see that there is a _Griffin _and_ _a _Wolverine _in the unit. I hate the _Quickdraw,_ so don't expect to see any of those...but I do like the _Grasshopper...

_Question 7: They work for the FedCom, but don't use exclusively FedCom 'Mechs. The Sentinels and the Snowbirds pretty much use anything they can get their hands on. (Just wait until they capture some Clan 'Mechs.)_

_Question 8: There's an _Axeman_ in the Snowbirds; it's the version with the AC/20._

_Question 9: Sure, why not? _

_Question 10: Sheila's _Shruiken _is probably closer to a _Warhammer_, though it's supposed to be an upgraded version of the _Wolfhound_ chassis. (I'll have to get around to posting the stats at some point, but it's kind of hard to do that without it sounding forced. I can't find a place for Sheila to say something like, "Look, here's my 'Mech sheet...")_

_Question 11: Oh, you never know when a Star League cache might get found somewhere. I'm rather partial to the _Black Knight_ myself. My favorite 3050 era 'Mech (and 3025 era 'Mech, for that matter) is definitely the _Battlemaster.

_Okay, NOW onto the story..._

* * *

_"We who have known war must never forget war. And that is why I have a picture of a soldier's corpse nailed to the door of my library."_

_–Harry Crosby, American writer and veteran of World War I_

_

* * *

_

_Todd City_

_Planting, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth_

_21 November 3050_

The Snowbirds had cheered when the Sentinel flag and the Federated Commonwealth flag was run up the pole in the middle of Fort Pilum's courtyard. As Matria had predicted, the surviving courtyard defenders had surrendered once the door opened and they saw Maysa's _Rifleman_. Intelligence had messed up again: Fort Pilum had two platoons of foot infantry at Fort Pilum, and they had prepared a lethal ambush, had the SLI come through the front door. Still, it had taken Mikkansia's squad some time to push them back to the entrance, and considering the odds, the SLI had done well. At the cost of four wounded, Mikkansia had taken Fort Pilum's interior and taken the second-largest bag of prisoners of the Clan War to that date. Moreover, the landings across Blackett Strait had been successful, with the dropzones secure. The Kell Hounds were fighting their way into the suburbs of Tel Akbir against very stiff Jade Falcon resistance, and the Eridani Light Horse's 50th Cavalry, with the Sentinels, were closing in on Second Try, the capital and largest city on Planting. The campaign was far from over, but the AFFC forces were at least on the offensive.

Sheila recalled the flag-raising ceremony in a daze. One look at her and Elfa had quietly taken command of the Snowbirds for the night. There wasn't much to do in any case; Mikkansia's other platoons finally arrived with a company of Planting militia, and they would occupy Fort Pilum for the time being. The Snowbirds were moved to the coastal town of Todd City, in preparation for the move across Blackett Strait to the main continent. Calla had sent his congratulations to his daughter for her action, but it was lost on her.

Max and Sheila were quartered in the city's best hotel, thrown open by the grateful populace, and the hotel manager had winked when Max asked for the honeymoon suite. He had hoped it might rouse Sheila, who seemed to be moving on autopilot. The hotel manager had not seen the blood and vomit-encrusted flak jacket and fatigues. Max helped Sheila take off the filthy clothes and he tossed them in a hamper, promising to burn them if he got the chance. They showered together, scrubbing the day's grime and blood off, then climbed into the oversize bed and shut off the lights.

After awhile, as Max had figured, Sheila began crying, burying her face in his chest as she finally let go in great, heaving sobs. He held her, stroking her hair until she subsided. "Okay now, babe?" he asked softly.

"No," Sheila sniffed. "I don't know if I'll ever be okay again."

"You will," he assured her. "You're still alive." Max paused. "He would have killed you...it was a fair fight, you or him."

"I know. I've been trying to justify it like that. But I still killed him." She laughed softly, humorlessly. "Funny. I know I've killed before, Max. I almost certainly killed that _Mad Cat_ pilot on Twycross when I DFA'ed him. But it's different in a 'Mech. You almost believe that you're not attacking another human being, just some machine. Deep down you realize that it's not true, that there's someone in that other 'Mech who has a family and bleeds red just like you do. And you're happy when you see the other guy punch out, even though it might mean that he's just going to come back next week with a new 'Mech." She shook her head. "But it's different at close range. He...I watched him die, Max. Right in front of me. My God, I felt his last breath." She rubbed at already raw eyes. "I _know_ he would have killed me, Max. He was _killing_ me, strangling me, but still, I just...I can't..." Her voice trailed off.

There was silence in the room for a few moments. "Sheila," Max said, "I killed a man today too."

"That's what Mikkansia said. You may have saved Moose Hoose's life."

"I doubt that; the guy I blew away was a lousy shot. But anyway, Moose asked me if it was the first time I'd killed someone."

Sheila sat up and faced him. "Oh, Max...I'm so selfish. I never even thought to ask you–"

He put a finger on her lips. "It's okay. It wasn't the first time I've killed someone at close range, Sheila." At her intake of breath, he began to explain. "It was when we lived on Shensi. There were places in Shensi City that you didn't go at night, especially if you were eleven years old and the son of a high-ranking mercenary officer in the AFFC. But my dad had been drinking that night, and he and my mom started fighting, so I hit the streets before I became a target.

"I wasn't watching where I was going and I got into the bad part of town. Well, I got out of there in a hurry, but some toughs decided to follow me and beat me up, because I wasn't Chinese. Luckily they were drunk, so I was able to bloody the first guy's nose pretty good, even after he knocked off my glasses. Unfortunately, that just pissed him off, so he pulled out a knife.

"I don't think that he or his buddies meant to kill me. The repercussions would have been terrible; Mom probably would have flattened the Chinese quarter, and they knew it. But they certainly could pound me into the pavement, or maybe slice me up a bit. Anyway, this guy came at me, and we both ended up on the ground. He yelled something about carving him a piece of merc kid, and, hell, I was scared. I grabbed the knife and turned it back against him; stabbed him in the chest. I hit something; there was blood all over me too...I never knew a man held that much blood. His buddies ran away, because about that time the constabulary arrived. The other kid died on the way to the hospital. They didn't hold me responsible, but my folks made sure I got that appointment to NAMA as soon as they could." Max shook his head. "It took a long time for me to get over that, and I didn't see him die, but I can still remember everything about that fight, and how surprised that kid looked when I stabbed him. I didn't go out of the house, except for school, for almost a year."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Sheila asked.

"Well, I didn't know if you wanted to know. I didn't want to tell anyone about it." Max smiled wanly. "Funny thing is, for some reason I told Kai Allard about it at NAMA, when he asked me what Shensi was like. It just sort of came up, and I burdened the poor guy with the story. Kai, God bless him, just told me a story about his dad, Justin Xiang. Apparently Kai got into one of those schoolyard 'my paw can beat up your paw' contest, and Kai said that his dad could kill the other kid's dad. Justin told him, 'Killing a man isn't easy, and never should be.'" Max sighed. "I don't know where I'm going with this, Sheila. Just trying to make us both feel better, I guess. As coldhearted as this sounds, you can't let it get to you. It's war. We didn't start the damn thing, but if we're going to win it, both of us is likely to have to do more killing before it's over."

"I know." Sheila drifted back down to the pillow, snuggling her body against his. "Justin Xiang is right, it's not easy."

Eventually, they slept.

* * *

Sheila awoke, her eyes flitting around the room. The morning sun streamed in through the curtains, and she stretched languidly, having slept surprisingly well. Of course the day before had been rather hectic.

Then she remembered the Elemental, whose face seemed to materialize out of the air in front of her. Sheila closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and put the man into a locked box in her mind, with all the other memories she did not want to remember. She knew they would have their time to haunt her. She wondered if, had it been the other way around, he would have been thinking of her.

_Do the Clanners even think the same way we do? I know they're human. I know they feel pain and they get scared. But would he just write it off as being something that happens in war, or would he be as remorseful as I am?_

_Who the hell _are _they, anyway? What the hell are they doing here? Why did that man come all the way from...well, wherever the hell they're from...just to try and take over some planet and get killed there? It's not fair, dammit. Sin enough that I had to kill him, but not knowing why makes it worse..._

Sheila rubbed her eyes and commanded herself to quit thinking about it, though she knew that she would. She had a battalion to run, and a war to fight, and it wasn't going to wait for her to find a way to forgive herself. Sheila got up from the bed, careful not to disturb Max, who was still sleeping, and padded naked to the phone, intending to check in with Elfa. Before she got to it, however, her eyes fell on a sheet of paper that had been shoved under her door. She knelt, picked it up, and unfolded it. It was written in a small, precise hand.

_Commander Arla-Vlata–_

_I'm passing on a message from your Major Brownoak. She says not to worry: sleep in. Your orders to move will not come until sometime in the afternoon. Things are quiet across the Strait for now._

_As for myself, my respect for MechWarriors has gone up a notch or two. All my doggies are telling me that your men and women fought like tigers yesterday in Fort Pilum. I personally saw your Togan Nordkoping take out that machine gun with a grenade; I'm putting him in for the Order of Steiner-Davion. And I heard that you killed an Elemental in hand to hand combat, which is not something I would take lightly, if it had been me._

_You probably have never been in real close combat before, and I have no words for what you may be feeling right now. I still struggle with it. Your mother told me once that if I ever stopped caring about killing, it was time to quit, because pretty soon I would cease caring about myself or the people I lead into battle. Know that the Elemental, had he killed you, would have finished off Lisa Felton and Fred Matria, then hit us from behind. So you saved some lives. That probably won't make you feel any better, but it's true. It's what makes war so horrible, and it may sound strange coming from an old SLI hand like me, but I wish we would quit having them. Nonetheless, sometimes you must fight and kill, to prevent a greater killing. After hearing about Turtle Bay, I'm afraid I don't have much sympathy for these Clanners._

_And I am starting to ramble on, so I will quit writing. Know also that you have the respect of the SLI, for yourself and not just for the name you bear. That is not an honor we give lightly. I would be proud to serve with the Snowbird, or her battalion, anytime, anywhere. _

_Sincerely,_

_Captain Mikkansia Jackson_

_Commanding, 1/1 Sentinels Light Infantry_

Sheila set the paper down next to the phone. She took a deep breath, and walked over to the curtains, opening the window and letting in a cool sea breeze. She leaned against the doorjamb and watched the ocean.

"Hey, beautiful," Max sleepily called out. "As much as I admire the view, I'm a selfish bastard, and I don't want to share it with someone else." He motioned at the window. "All it's going to take is for someone to look out their window and see you in your naked glory."

Sheila turned and smiled. "I was just thinking."

"Mmm. 'Bout what?"

"Where we should get married." She crawled back into bed with him. "I hear the cathedral in Second Try is rather nice."


End file.
